Love & War
by CIFan812
Summary: Could Sebastian be happy with Annette? Could she be happy with him? As for Kathryn & Sebastian - can anyone just get over that kind of complete devotion? *Complete!* ****Sequal "Twelve Years" is up!****
1. Regrets

I don't own any of the characters in this fan fiction – though I wish I did. I may make up new characters in the future, which will be mine.

_Sebastian didn't die in this version. I've often thought that it was a cop out to kill him, even though I know that it was supposed to be an adaptation of Dangerous Liaisons. Even that, though, was kind of a cop out. The thing I always wondered, was could Sebastian really change? Could he be happy with Annette? Could Annette (who I don't hate, although I understand Kathryn's hatred for her) be happy with him? And, mostly, I thought that Kathryn and Sebastian were just way too hot together to end that way. Can anyone just get over that type of blind devotion?_

**Regrets**

She sat in his hospital room watching him breath. The doctors had assured her that he would make it – after five nerve wreaking hours in surgery to repair internal damage. Sebastian no longer had his spleen, and his face looked like raw hamburger after its unhappy meeting with the ground, but he was going to live. For her part, Kathryn felt cold, and hollow. She stood her vigil not out of fear or remorse. She was here because… because she didn't know where else to be. Because he looked so broken and fragile laying there that someone had to protect him and she had always been the one to do it. His own damn father never did it, it was always her – just as it had always been him protecting her. _Some old habits die hard_, she thought bitterly.

Her thoughts went back to their last conversation. It had only been yesterday… but it felt like an eternity ago. He had come to collect his winnings and she realized at that moment that she would just be another of his conquests. Just another cunt to fuck. But worse then that, far worse, was the fact that he was really in love with that insipid little bitch, Annette Hardgrove. Would he think of the stupid Virgin when he was inside of Kathryn? Even the possibility revolted her. Sebastian was supposed to be hers – _only_ hers. All the other's were just playthings, toys. Toys, she thought, the corner of her mouth twitching almost imperceptibly. Now he belonged to someone else. Someone who wasn't even worthy of him. The one person who she had always thought would be there for her forever and without question had just betrayed her in the worst way imaginable. At that moment she hated him. She wanted him to suffer just like he had made her suffer. She felt a cruel smile twist her lips. It just so happened that inflicting pain was her specialty. The way to hurt Sebastian had always been though his pride and vanity.

That's why she said what she did. That he was her triumph, that he was just a toy she liked to play with. She wanted him to feel just as she felt at that moment – duped, used, abandoned. Like last year's designer pumps. From the look on his face she knew that she had succeeded. And she felt vindicated for an instant, like she had regained at least a shred of her dignity.

But it was hollow victory. He'd run back to Dorothy and she'd stoke his ego, then he'd forget all about Kathryn. No, it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. She called Ronald, still smarting from being treated like a whore by the one person in the world that she ever allowed herself to care about. She told him how Sebastian had corrupted Cecile. Never mind that Ronald had been fucking Kathryn, he acted the way most men would. _Hypocrites. All of them_, Kathryn thought with a bitter smile. She had loaded him and aimed him straight for her darling, treacherous, deceitful stepbrother. She had hoped that Ronald would manage to hurt him, to blacken on of his beautiful blue eyes. Maybe a split lip or even a broken nose. The beeping of the heart monitor brought her back to the present. This was far worse then a broken nose. She shuddered. What had she done? She shook her head sharply. She had managed never to regret a thing she'd ever done and she wasn't going to start now. Hadn't she wanted to teach him a lesson? He was going to live… that was more then he deserved.

So she sat there, barely breathing as she watched his chest move. She knew he would hate her when he woke up. That was good. She would rather have his hatred then the contempt he'd shown her by trying to fuck her with that blonde idiot in his head, tainting him, stealing him. Destroying the delicious, cruel beauty that was the two of them together. She felt something squeeze her heart and she pushed it aside. This was no time for weakness.

Sebastian moaned and began to stir. She felt her ramrod straight spine stiffen. She wondered what his reaction to her would be, and then she laughed at herself. What did she think it would be? Sebastian's eyes opened at the sound of her laugh and he turned his head. At first, it was the old Sebastian, her Sebastian. His eyes light up at the sight of her as if he didn't remember their last meeting. Maybe he didn't. The doctors had said he may have some memory loss from the trauma. _It could be permanent_, she thought, hating herself for how hopeful that thought made her feel. She saw the confusion in his eyes and smirked. If he didn't remember their confrontation, then he certainly wouldn't remember the accident.

"I know it's difficult to stop a cab sometimes, but did you really find it necessary to literally throw yourself in front of one, dear brother?"

He smiled incredulously. Or rather, tried to smile. "I got hit by a fucking cab?" His voice sounded hoarse and slurred. His brow furrowed as he concentrated, obviously trying to remember. "How?"

Damn! Why had he asked her outright? He was the only person in the world who could catch her in a lie. But he hadn't caught me yesterday, she thought. Maybe he was losing the ability to tell. "I wasn't there," she said, sidestepping the question altogether.

Then his face changed. He was remembering. She could tell. The beeping of his monitor sped up slightly as his heart rate increased. "What the fuck have you done, you evil whore?"

Well, that didn't take long. She paused trying to shield herself from her own disappointment as much as from his obvious anger and hatred. "Nothing you wouldn't have done. How the hell was I supposed to know that you'd be stupid enough to get hit by a car? This is New York, you fucking idiot."

"You tried to kill me… no you tried to kill Annette."

"I didn't try to kill either one of you. If I had, at least one of you would be dead. Need I remind you that my schemes never fail? Sometimes there's collateral damage, but never failure." It was true. She never failed, especially with Sebastian as her coconspirator. But Sebastian had ended up being the collateral damage this time in more ways then one. It was a price she wasn't sure she was willing to pay, but it was far too late for regret. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

"Where the fuck is she?"

"She's fine," she said, not even attempting to hide her disappointment at the fact. "A few scraps and bruises."

"I want to see her."

"Only family is allowed to visit you right now. Our parents are flying home, by the way." The last thing she wanted to talk about was Dorothy.

"You fucking bitch-"

"Will you get some fucking new material, please? Somehow her chart got mixed up with someone who was supposed to be under heavy sedation, so you'll just have to wait for the stupid bitch to wake up." She thought that he was lucky that she hadn't found someone who was scheduled to undergo a lobotomy this morning. She smiled at the thought. The Virgin Whore, drooling and staring blankly into the distance. Maybe Kathryn would get lucky that the little blonde bimbo would have a reaction to the sedatives.

"Get. Out." He enunciated each word carefully. His clear blue eyes glittered with a malevolence that she had never seen before. It made a shudder run up her spine. She didn't show it. Her face was like granite and her eyes were like green diamonds. She could still make herself cold and hard on the outside no matter what she was feeling on the inside, an ability that she had never been more grateful for then right now.

She stood up calmly, smoothed her skirt, slid her clutch underneath her arm, and gave him a warm predatory smile. "Of course. You need your rest. You've been through such a horrible ordeal." She walked to the door of his private hospital room and paused before opening. "Oh, and Seb?" She saw his jaw twitch at the nickname and knew he was listening even though he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling. "If you ever fuck me over again, I'll fuck you up so badly that this will look like a Sunday afternoon in the park." With that she walked out.

Why had she said that last thing? She didn't want him to know what he'd done to her yesterday, how he'd made her feel. There it was again, that squeezing in her chest. She inhaled sharply as she leaned against the closed door, willing herself not to cry. She hadn't cried since she was six, when her father left. She swore she'd never cry again, she'd never let anyone hurt her like that again. She closed her eyes as she marshaled all her strength to pull herself together. If she fell apart, and that was still a big if, she sure as hell wasn't going to do it in public, outside her brother's hospital room.

Out of blue, Blaine was there, beside her. "Need a ride, princess," he asked knowingly. She looked at him will hollow eyes, as if she had no strength left and nodded.

"Knew you were good for something," she murmured gratefully. Blaine. Good, faithful, nonjudgmental Blaine.

This is my first time submitting a story to the site. Please let me know if you'd like me to continue! Thanks!

-Angie


	2. Unconditional

Unconditional

**Unconditional**

Sebastian was angry with himself. Why? Because he missed the evil bitch. Kathryn had been a central part of his life for so long that not speaking to her didn't feel right. A thought would cross his mind or he'd see something that struck him as totally ridiculous and he knew that only she would appreciate it fully, would completely understand. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd stopped himself from calling her, or going over to her room. He shared some of the tamer things with Ann, testing the waters, but she didn't get it. It wasn't her fault. His warped since of humor was just too far outside her reality and usually seemed too crude or cruel or both. He imagined that she was totally convinced that it was just a lingering trace of Kathryn's influence and in time it would fade away. It was his fault, he knew. In his hast to win her forgiveness, he had given Kathryn too much of the blame for his past behavior and not taken enough of it for himself. If she only knew - he had never seduced and broken a women when he didn't want to, no matter how much Kathryn begged or conjoled. He had seduced Cecile for his own personal revenge. That it happened to benefit Kathryn was just a bonus. He had also planned on deflowering Annette before the bet. The bet was just Kathryn's way of trying to get her hands on his car because for some reason she had no faith in him. No, Kathryn hadn't corrupted him. He had been no angel when he met Kathryn, and she was the only person he had never had to pretend with. It disappointed him to realize that this was still true, that Ann obviously wasn't completely who he really was. But he could change, he _wanted_ to change for her.

If the only person who accepted him unconditionally as he is was an murderous drug addicted slut, what did that say about him, he wondered. That was perhaps the biggest reason he should change. As for the bitch herself, he'd only seen her three times in the two weeks since he'd been home. Their parents had already left, eager to shake off the burdens of parenthood once again so that they could get back to their real lives. Sebastian and Kathryn had both basically raised themselves, and each other. Which was probably, he mused, why they were so fucked up. Kathryn's mother did seem slightly more involved then his father – but only to criticize and belittle her only child. When he first met Kathryn, her bitch of a mother kept harping on how 'fat' she was, and how no one really loved 'fat' girls because they were disgusting. Kathryn hadn't been fat. She was slightly thinner then normal and just beginning to get curves in all the right places. That's when Kathryn started purging. Oh, and God forbid that Kathryn should slouch or cry or simply complain. Sebastian hated his stepmother, and was always happy to see her gone.

It was the middle of the night, and he was wide awake thinking about Kathryn. He sighed in frustration. Now he needed to go take a piss. He threw the covers off and got up. His leg felt strange, as if it were going to sleep. The doctor had said that there was some minor nerve damage, but it wasn't permanent. He had to have therapy, and it was getting better, but right now it hurt like a mother fucker. He felt like an old man as he shuffled his way to the bathroom. About halfway to there, his leg gave way completely and he went down hard, landing on his knee. He felt a wave of intense pain and then his vision threatened to go black.

Suddenly, Kathryn was there, wrapped in a robe, her silky brown hair in his face as she bent close to him. Her smell surrounded him. He hadn't been this close to her since… since before the bitch nearly had him killed. "What have you done now, you stupid bastard?" He looked up expecting to see contempt flashing in her green eyes and saw worry instead.

"Fuck you," he said through gritted teeth. He tried to get up, but his knee wouldn't cooperate.

"Let me help you." He felt her arms wrap around his waist and try to pull him up.

"I don't want your help."

"Shut up, ass wipe! You were going to the bathroom?"

He was silent for a moment before he finally helped her lift him up and leaned on her, feeling her body pressed against him. He looked down at her, saw the laughter in her eyes. Her robe had come undone and hung partially open. The night gown she wore clung to her. She might be a cold heartless bitch, she might have a coke problem, she might be bulimic, but she was still the hottest woman in the world. "Why are you here?"

"I live here. Did you hit your head again or something?"

"No, why are you in my room?"

"You screamed. I… Would you like me to ignore it the next time you scream?"

"I did?" He hadn't remembered screaming.

"Yes," she said impatiently. "Valmont, you're heavy. Where the fuck were you going?"

"Sorry. The bathroom."

He leaned on her all the way there. "What happened to your leg?"

"I got hit by a cab," he said irritably. "You may have heard about it."

"You know what I mean," she hissed.

He sighed. He did know what she meant. He just needed to create some emotional distance between them right now because he was finding himself wanting to fuck her again. She tried to kill him and less then a month later, he wants to jump her bones. Not to mention that he was in love with someone else. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? "It gave out." He hesitated in the bathroom and gave her a sidelong look.

"I've seen it before, Valmont," she sneered. "Unless you want to sit like a girl, I suggest you finish quickly."

"Fine," he sighed as he pulled his cock out of his boxers.

* * *

Annette was lying next to him on his bed. She was naked, and the afterglow made her even more beautiful. Sebastian wondered what it was about women that made them even more attractive after a good cum. "I love you," he whispered as he caressed her face.

She smiled and stretched. "I love you too." She snuggled against him. "I was going to ask you if your leg was better, but I guess that was my answer."

He laughed and kissed her on the forehead. "I just missed you so much."

She rolled her eyes. "I was here yesterday."

He shrugged, his mind involuntarily going back to his reaction to Kathryn last night. He didn't feel guilty, exactly. It bothered him mostly because he knew it would hurt Ann. "But I miss you when you're gone for even an hour."

Laughter drifted in from the hallway. Kathryn. That was her genuine laugh. He wondered what was making her happy. He used to be the only one she shared that laugh with. Well, him and Tuttle. Maybe that's who she was with. He found himself hoping that it wasn't one of her toys. That's what they always called them – the people they fucked with, or fucked up, or fucked over. Toys. That's what she had called him that day. He knew that she hadn't really wanted to fuck him, that's why he'd given up after he had Annette. He hadn't wanted her like that. He'd wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her, but she didn't. After he gave up Annette, he was damn well going to collect his winnings whether she wanted him or not. But even then he had believed that she cared for him, that she respected him and saw him as an equal. The realization that he was just another toy to her had hurt. The pain of it slammed into him unexpectedly with the same force it had that day and he sucked in a breath.

"What's wrong? Is it your leg again?" He looked over at Annette to see her frowning in concern. "Do you think you should go see your doctor? I can drive you."

He shook his head and gave her a reassuring smile. "No… I'll be okay. It was just a cramp. I have everything I need right here."

* * *

He was sitting in the upstairs living room reading a book when Kathryn walked in. She glanced at him before going over to the wet bar and pouring herself a scotch. He watched her as she moved, his book forgotten. She sat on the couch and put her drink on the coffee table. She took her crucifix off her wrist, opened it and took a hit. She threw the crucifix on the table and picked up her drink as she settled back into the couch.

"Why are you staring at me," she asked without looking at him. The sound of her voice made him jump slightly.

"You should be careful mixing that shit."

"I'm always careful. What do you care, anyway?"

"I don't." He looked at the graceful curve of her neck as she leaned her head against the back of the couch. The way her spine was curved made her breasts strain against the buttons of her shirt.

"Then stop looking at me, you fucking pervert." She turned to look at him, her eyes cold. "Aren't you supposedly living in preconnubial bliss with you little virgin slut?"

He laughed. "Who said we were getting married."

She raised an eyebrow as she lifted her head off the back of the couch. "Have you told Dorothy that you're not planning on marring her?"

He snapped his book shut in annoyance, and became even more annoyed when he realized that he had just lost his place. Only Kathryn could make him do something so careless. "We haven't even graduated high school yet. And stop calling her Dorothy!"

"You can always get an apartment for two. Of course, knowing dear Ann, it will soon be three. How many brats do you suppose she wants to pop out? Three? Four?"

"Why do you have to be such an evil bitch," he snapped.

"Why do you have to be so fucking naïve? I never did understand that about you. Oh, I knew it how you are and could usually predict it, like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. But I never quite understood it. Cecile is a prime example. You fucked her to get back at her aunt, but then felt sorry for the insipid little twit _after_ turning her into a raging nympho and tried to reunite her with a man who she is inevitably going to cheat on – because of you. You are admirably deceptive, cold, cruel and calculating, and capable of so much destruction. But then you wince at the natural consequences of your actions. Did you really think that you could fuck someone like Ann, and then not deliver on white picket fence and the kids and the station wagon and the PTA meetings – all without hurting her?" She laughed and let her head fall back on the couch. "God, you're adorable."

With mounting horror, he realized that she was right. That's why he and Kathryn made such a good team. She always saw the consequences of things so much clearer. He had always been much more for the instant gratification and the flawless execution of a well-laid plan. Kathryn was all about the fallout, and she could usually predict it with a frightening accuracy. "Maybe I'm willing to marry her, have you ever thought of that?"

Her head snapped up. "But you just said…"

"Not right now, Kathryn. Of course not right this instant. But we do have plans."

She let her head fall back again and sighed. "Then you truly are pussy whipped. I had started to have some hope for you again, Sebastian."

* * *

Annette and Sebastian were lying on the grass in a park looking at the clouds. They had just gotten out of school and neither wanted to go home just yet. Sebastian liked how he felt at peace whenever he was with Annette. It wasn't like the constant rush he felt with Kathryn. He had, frankly, become exhausted by it. Always being teased, never being satisfied. Kathryn ran hot and cold constantly. All over him one minute, pushing him away the next. Annette wasn't like that. She never played coy, or hard to get. Once she was his, that was it.

"Annette… have you thought about… about the future at all?"

She looked at him and frowned. "Well, I'm applying to schools, if that's what you mean."

"How about us?"

"Us?" She looked back up at the sky, her voice sounding hesitant. "I want to have a life with you. But I want it to be what you want too. Is that what you want?"

He looked away from her and returned his own gaze to the sky. "I don't know," he said honestly. "All I know is that I love you, and that I want to be with you."

She touched his face. "Then that's enough for now."

Although he was relieved, Sebastian couldn't help remembering Kathryn's words. He seduced Ann into compromising so many of her values already and he couldn't help thinking that he was still doing it without even meaning to. She had said that she wanted marriage and a family, and she'd had someone who was willing to give it to her. She'd traded that in to have sex with a man who couldn't stop lusting after his homicidal wicked stepsister. It somehow didn't seem fair to her.

* * *

Sebastian stood on his balcony, a cigarette between his lips as he prepared to light it. Suddenly, someone snatched the cigarette from his lips. He glared at Kathryn, who'd come in and was standing next to him. "What the fuck is your damage?"

"Smoking is bad for your scars." She tossed the cigarette over the balcony and ran her fingers over one of the two scars left on his face. He shuddered at her touch. "I want your face back the way it was."

He looked closely at her in the twilight. Her eyes were dilated, and her expression was relaxed in the way that it only got when she was high. "Shit, Kathryn, you're fucked up," he said. He didn't know why she insisted on doing that to herself. He accused her of caring for nothing but herself, but sometimes he wondered if she even cared about herself. Maybe that's why she enjoyed making other people miserable so much.

Her fingers moved to his lips and he closed his eyes. He had lost count of how many times she had done this. Come into his room high, teased him into a frenzy and left him hard as a rock. Not because he couldn't have fucked her, but because he wouldn't. Not when she was fucked up. He'd always wanted her to give herself to him willingly. It wouldn't count if she wasn't in complete control of herself. There was also something that left him a bit cold at the thought of taking advantage of Kathryn. But every time she did it, it got a little bit harder to control himself. Her hand moved from his lips down to his chest.

"My beautiful Sebastian," she sighed, sounding wistful. "My poor beautiful Sebastian."

He smiled down at her. He liked her when she was like this, even though it scared the hell out of him. She was soft, sexy, innocent and affectionate when she was high. And she only got this way when she was alone, or when no one but him was around. He was glad for that, at least. He shuddered to think of what would happen to her if she acted like this around anyone else. He stopped her hand as it began to stray a little too far south. She pouted up at him. He smiled and kissed her hand.

She sighed and moved away from him, back into the bedroom. He watched her go to his bed and lay down. She would likely fall asleep there. Normally, he would snuggle with her, and they'd wake up together in the morning. She'd glare at him as if it was his fault that she awakened in his bed and he'd call her a coke whore as she left. He started to get another cigarette as he watched her wrap herself in his sheets, but thought better of it. He ended up sleeping in her bed that night. At some point he felt her get in beside him and curl up next to him. He smiled and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

_Thanks for the review Kaila! I love these characters so much and I'm just trying to get inside their heads. I'm not sure if SMG just did a good job of showing us vulnerability in Kathryn despite the script, but she never really felt completely evil to me - not like Glen Close did in the original_ Dangerous Liasons_. Because they both seemed to be such tragic characters to me, the end of the movie just never felt right to me._


	3. Addiction

**Chapter 3**

**Addiction**

Kathryn woke up to find Sebastian asleep in her bed, his arm casually thrown across her waist. She sat up in alarm. Her sudden movement woke him up and he stretched as he smiled up at her lazily. "Morning, sis."

"What the fuck are you doing in my bed?"

"I came in here to avoid the coked out slut who passed out in mine. But you followed me in here," he yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he rolled over onto his side. His eyes were already closing as if he were too tired to stay awake.

"Get out," she ordered.

"God Kathryn, what are you so pissy about? You're the one who keeps crawling into bed with me. It's Saturday morning and I just want to sleep."

"Not in my bed Sebastian."

"I can't believe you!"

"You should be thanking me. Dorothy would pitch a fit if she caught you in my fucking bed wearing nothing but your boxers."

He sighed and got up. She could see the realization that she was right dawning on him. As he was heading for the door, she laughed. He turned to face her, confused. "I was just wondering," she said with a smirk, "if she wears your balls on a chain around her neck or if she keeps them in a Dixie cup next to her bed."

"Fuck you, bitch," he said as he continued to the door.

"You still want to, don't you? That's why you're so pissed off all the time," she called after him. He slammed the door behind him and she sat there frowning at it. "Pity," she finally said. "They were such nice balls."

Dinner was torture. Dorothy was there, her big adoring blue eyes constantly on Sebastian. Kathryn hoped that if she ever looked at a man that way, someone would just shoot her. Never were the changes in Sebastian so apparent as when he was in the same room as Annette. It made Kathryn shudder to watch them. It was so sickly sweet that she felt like she would go into a sugar coma at any moment. They kept touching each other as they spoke in hushed tones and giggled. Sebastian was actually giggling!

"For God's sake, why don't the two of you just go up to Sebastian's room and fuck already," she finally snapped irritably. She didn't worry about her image around Annette. She had found out to her horror that Sebastian told the bitch all about her, and even let her read his sacred journal.

Annette looked shocked but Sebastian just laughed. "What's the matter? Jealous?"

Kathryn sneered at him. "Nauseous, actually." She threw her fork on the table, realizing that she'd lost her appetite. Actually, she'd never really had one. It was simple stubbornness that kept her there. "You know what? You stay. I'll leave." She got up and stormed out of the dining room. Why the hell did he have to rub his 'relationship' in her face constantly? All it did was make her want to smash Dorothy's face in for what she'd done to Sebastian.

The worst part was that she knew he was right. She was jealous. She used to be the one that Sebastian spoke to in hushed tones. She was the one who got to laugh with him. She was the one he couldn't keep his hands off. She slammed the door to her room, cursing the fact that the school year was only half over. She wanted nothing more than to leave, go to one of the other family homes. Maybe even in Europe. She hated being here with those two. She used her cell phone to call her boyfriend. She needed a good fucking. She told him to ignore two idiots downstairs and come straight to her room.

About an hour later, she lay next to Storm Roberts, son of US Senator Jeff Roberts, as he drifted off to sleep. She hadn't cum. She rarely did. Sebastian had once told her that it was his theory that coming made a woman vulnerable, and she probably had such a hard time because she never let anyone in. Of course it had been part of one of his attempts to get between her legs. She smiled at the memory. He'd been so persistent. Maybe if she had fucked him back then they'd still be together. Or maybe it just would have been worse when he left her for Annette. No way of knowing now. She did know, however, that she was hungry so she got up and put on her robe. She found Sebastian in the kitchen with a glass of vodka in one hand and a lit cigarette between his lips as he looked inside the refrigerator.

"Post coital munchies," she asked as she reached in past him to grab a few items to make a sandwich

He glared at her. "No, sis. You were the one upstairs working up an appetite with your new Neanderthal."

She paused. "Don't tell me you didn't get laid after all that hand holding and giggling. Really, Sebastian? Could you be any more of a faggot? Next you'll be declaring your undying love for Blaine."

"Do you have any idea how much noise you were making?" He went to the island and sat down on one of the stools.

"Oh, did I make the girlfriend uncomfortable?" She knew he would recognize the fakeness of her sympathetic tone.

He was silent as he took a sip of his vodka, almost pouting. It was perverse how pouting made him sexier. Any other man would just look pathetic. After a second he smirked at her. "Did he make you cum?"

She blinked at him for a moment. She looked down at the bread she was spreading mayonnaise on to avoid looking at him. "Twice."

"Liar." She looked up at him and wanted to smack the little smug, knowing smile right off his face. "I know exactly what you sound like when you cum."

It was true. Sebastian had made her cum once. In a moment of weakness, she'd let him finger her to an orgasm. She remembered how he'd watched her face. "I just want to see how beautiful you look when you cum," he'd whispered. The force of it had scared her. It was amazing, far better then what she managed herself, and if he could do that with just his fingers…

She felt herself involuntarily shudder at the memory, like her body was reliving it to spit her. "Bastard," she hissed.

He merely smiled at her and watched her finish making her sandwich. She knew what he was thinking. He knew that he was the only person who had ever managed to really get her off, and he wanted her to know that he knew it. And he was so fucking smug about it. Why did he have to constantly provoke her? She took her sandwich and left him sitting there. If she thought she could sufficiently steel herself against him, she'd fuck him and record it. The look on Annette's face would almost be worth the damaged she knew she'd do to herself.

* * *

Kathryn felt it the moment Sebastian entered the upstairs living room even though her back was to the door as she stood in front of the wet bar pouring herself a glass of port. It was as if his presence sucked all the air out of the room and left behind nothing but his desire. Like electricity, it traveled along her skin and settled in the space between her cunt and the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, almost like she was taking a hit of cocaine. Only cocaine numbed her, helped her feel in control. Sebastian's desire made every inch of her tingle and made her feel like she would lose control at any given moment and never get it back if she weren't careful. Very careful.

She turned to face him. He had been downstairs in the gym doing something that made him all hot and sweaty. She knew he hadn't been doing someone because Annette was out of town visiting an aunt and he had actually been faithful. Unless you counted the increasingly smoldering looks he'd been giving Kathryn with those impossibly blue eyes. He stared at her silently for a moment before closing the door and locking it.

"What the fuck to do you think you're doing, Valmont?" She fought to keep the tremor out of her voice as he came towards her with that look in his eyes.

"Why the hell won't you get out of my fucking head, Kathryn?"

Kathryn's throat went dry as she gave him her best mocking smile. "You mean the Virtuous One, your adored little virgin hasn't excised all of my evil influence from you yet? I would have thought she could accomplish that with one taste from her blessed cunt." She was pleased with how cold she was able to make her voice, when she was feeling anything but. She was trying to shock him out of his fixation with her. Mocking Ann seemed like the best way to do that, but he didn't even seem to notice.

"You're a selfish, cruel, spiteful, coke snorting slut, but I can't stop wanting you." He sounded curiously detached, like he was just making a curious observation. Before Kathryn could reply, he kissed her. She pushed him away and slapped him. He smiled. It was his old smile, the one she saw all the time when he was hers. He grabbed her wrists and forced them behind her back. She was pressed against him now and could feel his erect cock. Her breath caught in her throat. He kissed her again, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She found herself kissing him back, melting into him. He was holding her wrists with one hand while he ran the other over her thigh, pulling up her skirt. She felt him begin to rub her clit through her panties and she moaned against his mouth.

She knew very well what he was doing. Sebastian thought that if he could just fuck her once, he'd stop wanting her. It had worked that way with every other woman he'd ever wanted except Annette. In his world sex was how he asserted himself, how he broke his enemies, how he amassed power. That's exactly why she'd never let him have his way – and why she damn sure couldn't now. Kathryn knew that if she let him have her, that he would own her. If he left her after that… no, when he left her after that she knew it would hurt far worse than realizing that he loved Annette. Part of her just wanted to give in, to get it over with and end this push/pull they'd been doing since they were fifteen. Maybe then he'd stop staring at her like a starving man stared at a steak. But she knew she couldn't do that. The cost would be far too high.

She forced her traitorous body to stop reacting. She remembered the times after Annette when he'd rejected her advances, especially the time when he'd actually laughed in her face. He stopped when he felt her stiffen against him and pulled back to look at her. She felt him shudder slightly at the look of contempt in her eyes. Letting go of her, he gave her a half-hearted shove away from him as he stumbled back.

"You want me like this, don't you," he asked accusingly. Kathryn would have laughed if she wasn't so damned angry. How dare he blame her because he wanted to fuck her? She hadn't done a damn thing to encourage him, but somehow it was all her fault. Why were men such fucking jerks? "This is just part of your sick little game, isn't it? You just want to ruin my relationship with Annette."

Now Kathryn did laugh. It was a cold and mocking laugh that surprised even her. Sebastian flinched and she wondered if she could make him cry again, the way he had when she called him a toy. "Darling brother, I'm not playing any games. At least not with you." She affected a pout as she ran a finger down his chest. "I'm afraid my favorite toy is broken and not much fun to play with anymore."

He blinked at her and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then snapped it shut. She thought he might hit her for one frightening moment – really hit her – but then he turned and stalked out, slamming the door behind him. Kathryn leaned heavily against the bar, tears in her eyes. Angry tears. She hated him for doing this to her, and then blaming her for it all. He was the one who had become obsessed with fucking Annette, and then fell in love with her. He was the one who deserted Kathryn. He was the one who changed. How in the hell was any of this her fault?

Part of her felt guilty for hurting him, and that made her even angrier. Why should she feel guilty? He was the one who kept twisting the knife and then had the audacity to expect her to lay on her back for him like some cheep bimbo that he'd picked up off the street. Like one of the countless women he'd been with and felt nothing for. She was shaking with anger. Something had to be done. What, she wasn't sure yet but more it hurt that little bitch Annette, the better. She wanted Sebastian to see her broken and realize that it was all his fault. She wanted him feel someone precious to him slipping away and be powerless to stop it.

* * *

_Thanks for the review, Horizon629! I'm glad you like my little story._


	4. Cruel

**Cruel**

He didn't know how he missed it. If it hadn't been for Tuttle, he may never have realized it.

He'd been pacing a rut into his best friend Blaine Tuttle's carpet, after complaining about Kathryn for about half an hour. How she walked around next to nothing; had insisted on having loud, rough sex with some idiot who couldn't even manage to get her off; how she still came on to him when she was high. Blaine was half listening and half checking out his ass as he watched him from the sofa. Sebastian had long since gotten used to Blaine's lust for him. It had become just another subtext of their relationship.

"If you ever get tired of dealing with woman troubles, you could always switch teams. We'd love to have you." Blaine ran his fingers through his bleached blond hair and smiled at his friend.

Sebastian paused long enough to glare at his oldest and closest friend. "I'll bare that in mind," he said in a tone that clearly indicated that he would do nothing of the sort.

Blaine sighed wistfully. "I suppose it's just as well. The last thing I need is Kathryn up my ass."

"I wouldn't worry about that. The bitch isn't going to shut down her pipeline over me. It would be too much trouble for her to find a new dealer that she could trust."

Blaine laughed. "Oh, I wouldn't underestimate what Kathryn would do for you."

"Don't you mean _to _me?"

"That too… in a manner of speaking." It was clear from Blaine's expression and tone of voice what manner he meant.

"What the hell are you talking about, Tuttle?"

Blaine laughed again. "It's almost cute. The two of you can walk into a crowded room and almost instantly tell what everyone feels for everyone else, but you're so damn clueless about each other. Or yourselves for that matter."

"I know who I'm in love with," Sebastian said, sounding a little defensive even to his own ears.

"Do you really?"

"I love Annette. I don't know why that's so difficult for you to believe.

Blaine shrugged. "It's not that I don't believe it, or at least believe that you believe it. I just know that it won't last."

"Why wouldn't it," Sebastian was starting to get annoyed. Why had he come here? He should have known that Tuttle would continue his shameless cheerleading for Kathryn.

"Because you have to hide too much of yourself from her. She'll never understand you, Valmont. Decent people don't behave like we do. They don't hang out with drug dealers. They don't drink, smoke and take recreational drugs. She may love you, she may idolize you, she may have the best sex of her boring little life with you, but she will never understand you and accept you for the completely twisted and cruel son of a bitch that you are. There's only one person that does that. Well, one that you'd actually consider fucking. Unfortunately."

"I don't need your psychoanalysis bullshit, Tuttle. I just want to get Kathryn out of my fucking head!"

"Not gonna happen, sweet cheeks."

Sebastian rolled his eyes at the 'sweet cheeks' remark, but let it go. "And why is that?"

"Cause you're in love with the evil bitch. And she's in love with you."

Sebastian laughed. "That's got to be the funniest thing you've ever said, Tuttle."

"Really? Then why was she so pissed about Annette?"

"Because I wasn't her plaything any more. She couldn't manipulate me into doing her bidding."

"But that's not true is it? She did get you away from Annette, and the only reason you didn't end up in her bed after that is because she turned you down."

Sebastian stared at his friend. In that instant, it was clear to him. There must have been something about his expression that Blaine didn't like because his face lost its color. "What's going through that gorgeous head of yours, Valmont?" Sebastian knew that even though Tuttle had known him longer, he was more attached to Kathryn. He didn't know how she had managed it, but even his best friend loved her more. It definitely wasn't sex, which was how she controlled most men.

Sebastian smiled at him. It was a cold and vicious little smile. "Oh, nothing to concern yourself with, Tuttle," he said smoothly.

* * *

Even now, he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it was true. But as he really thought about it he realized that it was the only thing that fit.

The day before the accident when Kathryn reneged on the terms of their agreement. That was totally unlike her. If she really had just wanted to humiliate him, she would have fucked him first, and _then _taunted him. That would have been a complete triumph, something Kathryn never would have been able to pass up. She would have been able to call him not only on betraying his feelings by making him break up with Annette, but also for betraying his love for her by fucking Kathryn. Ronald coming after him later was sloppy, not like the well thought out plans that Kathryn usually put into practice. She never went for something as pedestrian as having someone beat up. She always went for the jugular. If it didn't cause some sort of psychological damage, or intense emotional pain - the more ironic the better - it wasn't good enough.

Then at the hospital, that thing she said about not fucking her over again. At the time he hadn't given it much thought. He was so damn angry with her, he hadn't really listened to her. But it was all starting to look less like Kathryn had really been using him all along and more like she had simply let her emotions get out of control. Because she loved him and he had betrayed her by loving someone else. Which meant that she had a heart. He smiled to himself as he sat at his desk, plotting his next move. If she had a heart, she was vulnerable.

A new plan was taking shape in his mind as he pulled off his reading glasses and rubbed his temple. Only this time, it was Kathryn that he was going to break. First he had to make sure that he was right. But how? He felt his smile widen. He knew exactly how.

* * *

Sebastian stood inside the doorway of his bathroom, waiting. The shower was on and steam swirled lazily around the room, escaping through a small crack in the door. He looked through the crack at the mirror that he'd placed under the bed so that he could see someone walking through his bedroom door. Elaberate, yes, but necessary. If Kathryn became too suspecious things would go to shit fast. After a few minutes, he saw her bare feet pause just outside his bedroom door. She walked in after a brief hesitation, drawn by the site of his open journal lying on his nightstand, just like he knew she would be. He smiled as he quickly disrobed and got into the shower, staying only long enough to get sufficiently wet and to give her enough time to read the fake entry. The first one since the accident. The journal had been about Kathryn. It was an ode to his obsession with her. He'd been so angry with her that he hadn't written in it since in all this time.

He got out of the shower and wrapped a towel loosely around his waist as he thought about what he'd written – that he though of Kathryn while fucking Annette, that he couldn't bear Kathryn's contempt, that the accident was his fault since he had betrayed her, that he though if he could convince her that he didn't love her, maybe she would finally let him fuck her even just once, that she obviously hated him too much to allow him even that.

He left his bathroom and found her standing stone still in front of his journal, the little coloring her alabaster skin had was gone. She seemed to feel him enter the room and just like that, her reaction was gone. He had to hand it to her. If he hadn't been looking for it, he would have missed it completely. He only hoped that she was still so internally flustered that she wouldn't see through him. With any luck, her feelings for him would keep her blind to his intent.

He hurried over to the journal and flipped it closed. "How many times do I have to tell you that this is private, you damn nosey whore?"

"If it's so private, why is it out in the open?"

He tensed at the suspicion in her voice at her. He looked at her and saw the intensity in her eyes as she tried to read him. "I frankly didn't think you'd care enough to look anymore. I'm just a broken toy not worth paying attention to, right?" For an second, just an instant, he let her see a flicker of the pain those words had caused him.

The corner of her mouth twitched, but that's all she gave away as she turned on her heel and walked away. She'd bought it. For now. And he was sure that his wicked stepsister really was in love with him. Or at least close enough.

* * *

His next move didn't happen right away. It took him over a week to convince Annette to pretend to break up with him. He'd had to swear, repeatedly, that he wouldn't 'make love' to Kathryn. It was true. He had no intention of making love to his wicked stepsister. No, he planned on fucking her into submission and then ripping her cold little heart out. He knew what she felt for him, what she wanted from him, and that gave him the upper hand. He was the chink in her armor and he expected to exploit it fully.

Once Annette agreed, she became anxious. "When," she'd ask. "Soon," he'd reply with a small smile. She didn't want him to do it, but since he seemed so determined, she wanted him to just get it over with and hopefully out of his system for good. Unfortunately, he would have to hurt her to start the game – he couldn't count on Annette, guiless as she was, being as convincing a playmate as Kathryn.

Almost a month after Kathryn read his fake journal entry – a long awkward month of them barely speaking to each other and of Sebastian lusting after her against his will – he decided it was time. He was inside of Annette, in his bed. He was moving slowly, gently, the way she liked it. He looked down at her. She was so beautiful laying underneath him, face flushed, eyes half closed, lips parted, hair fanned out in a golden halo behind her head. He relished the felling of being with her. Her wetness, her tightness, her smell, her taste. His heart ached at what he was about to do to her, but he knew it was necessary. She was his and he intended to keep it that way. He knew that if he let it fester, this thing between him and Kathryn would destroy what he had with Annette. He needed to get her out of his system once and for all, and he needed to take away all the leverage that she had against him. He buried his head in Ann's neck and let his mind drift to Kathryn. His movements became rougher, more aggressive. He felt Ann stiffen underneath him, but he kept going. His orgasm came suddenly and with an intensity that took him by surprise. He gasped Kathryn's name as he came and then collapsed.

Annette pushed him away and jumped off the bed. She began snatching up her clothes, only putting on her shirt and pants.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Sebastian knew very well what was wrong, had counted on this reaction to being manhandled and called Kathryn's name. He sat on the side of the bed and looked at her earnestly.

She glared at him wordlessly, tears forming in her eyes, as she headed for the door. He hastily pulled on his boxers and followed her.

"Ann," he called out. He caught up to her just outside the door and grabbed her arm. She turned around and slapped him so hard that it left him stunned for a second. He recoiled and brought his hand to his cheek. She looked like she was considering doing it again. "What the fuck," he yelled.

"You want to know what the fuck, Sebastian," she asked, her voice shaking with rage. It was the first time he'd ever heard her swear. "You hurt me! And then you called me that _bitch's _name!" She pointed at Kathryn's door.

Sebastian took the opportunity to glance at Kathryn's door. He could see her shadow at the bottom. He knew she was standing there listening. Sneaky little eavesdropping bitch. He shook his head and looked at her with a pained expression. "No, I wouldn't do something like that."

"You did!" She was crying now.

He reached for her and she pulled away. "Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me again," she yelled and ran down the stairs. A few seconds latter he heard the front entrance slam. He jumped at the sound. "Shit," he yelled in false frustration. "Fuck!" He stood staring after her for a few more seconds before going back into his room and slamming the door.

He hadn't done anything that manipulative, that coldly calculating in a very long time. It felt liberating. He had no doubt that he could get Ann to understand. He'd told her that he would have to do something drastic to make their breakup look real. But he should still feel a little guilty for hurting her, shouldn't he? What did bother him, though, was how intensely he came when he started thinking about Kathryn. What was that about? He didn't need to analyze it. Things were always intense when he set his sights on a new conquest, and that's all she was to him now. That's all he could let her be.

_Hey Keila! I totally agree about the ending of the movie. It worked in_ Dangerous Liasons _because they were all much older, and you could really beleive that the Marquise was a cast-iron bitch through and through. And she sent someone after Valmont with a GUN, not just to beat him up. But, yes, S&K belong together. Breaking them up and then making it irreversable was a huge mistake._

_Thanks for the welcome, SalvaVeritate!_

_The stories getting a lot more twisted and dark. I hope it still holds your interest..._


	5. Suspecious

**Chapter 5  
Suspicion**

That was the best word for Kathryn's attitude towards Sebastian and his sudden reversion. Suspicion. The journal entry, the fight with Annette. Something just didn't feel right. Annette's anger had been real, though. Kathryn was sure of that much. She had felt it coming off the stupid little bitch right through the door in white-hot waves. The old Sebastian, her Sebastian, would have no problem using her as set up for a game. But the current version – pussy whipped Sebastian – treated that silly bitch like she was fine china. So either it was real or Valmont wasn't nearly as reformed as he pretended to be. For the life of her, Kathryn wasn't sure which she hoped for more. If it was real, then there was a chance that she could get the old Sebastian back. If it was a game, then Annette hadn't really replaced her at all.

For the next several days, he lounged around the house, reading. Eventually, he began going out at night, sometimes bringing random bimbos home. They'd disappear into his room where, from the sound of it, he'd go to great lengths to 'entertain' them and then send them on their way before morning. Mostly, though, he didn't come home at all. They still weren't really talking, and there were things that Kathryn needed to know. But she needed to wait for the right time.

One night after his slut of the day left, she walked into his room. He had been drifting off to sleep, but when he saw her he smiled lazily. "If it isn't my evil step sister. What do you want? Sloppy seconds?"

"What are you playing at, Sebastian?" She cut right to the chase. Kathryn had never been one for small talk when something was bothering her, no matter how delightfully vulgar the small talk was. And Sebastian was definitely bothering her.

He propped himself up on his elbows and the sheet that barely covered him slid completely off his torso. Sebastian was no jock, but he was trim and fit. A runner's body, they called it. "I'm just a broken toy, remember? I don't play games anymore."

"Stop repeating my words, you fucking son of a bitch," she snapped, her voice calm and controlled while her green eyes flashing with anger. "I know you're up to something."

"And just how do you know that?"

"Because you're Sebastian." She cocked her head and studied him intently.

Something undecipherable passed behind his eyes for an instant as his lips curled into something between a sneer and a grimace. "You used to say that I was your Sebastian."

"Stop deflecting!"

"I changed."

She snorted "Yeah. For about five seconds. It seems to me you've reverted to most of your old habits. You'll be deflowering all the new virgins at school in no time."

"Perhaps. But I'll never be your plaything again," he hissed. "That's one thing I have no intention of going back to."

Kathryn turned and headed for his door. She was tired of him throwing her words up in his face every time she tried to talk to him. It was like trying to have a discussion with a damn echo. He grabbed her from behind just as she reached the door and spun her around. "I'm not done yet," he said softly, almost menacingly as he pushed her against the door, trapping her with his naked body.

He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head and leaned against her. "You tempted me and tortured me, but never really gave me anything. For three years you just used the fact that I wanted you so much to keep me in line like a fucking marionette on a string. For three fucking years, Kathryn," he enunciated each word carefully. She could see the anger in his eyes. "Controlled by your cunt. But I was a special toy, wasn't I? Because I didn't even get a courtesy of a fuck. It was just the hope of your cunt that kept me on your sting." He backed away from her. "We were supposed to be equals."

She wanted to tell him that they had been. That's why she had never let him have her – he was the one person who had the power to hurt her. If she thought it could just be sex and believed that he would still be there for her afterwards, they would have fucked long ago. But she couldn't tell him that. Instead, she turned and walked out. "Silly rabbit," she mocked softly over her shoulder as she closed the door. He still didn't understand, and she couldn't explain it to him. She wondered if he'd ever figure it out.

Now, not only was she confused about what was going on with Sebastian, she was frustrated. The conversation they'd had the other night had been cathartic and some of their old camaraderie returned. It was almost as if he needed to vent his frustration before he could be on good terms with her again. He was her Sebastian again, only he wasn't. He didn't act quite the same, and she often found herself trying to find a new way to relate to him

Being around him enough to be reminded of how intelligent he was and the deliciously twisted way that his mind worked afforded her the opportunity to assess why she had wanted him in the first place. It wasn't just that he was gorgeous. It wasn't just that sex seemed to drip from his every pore. It wasn't just that all the girls she knew that had fucked him had described it as if it were some religious experience. If it was just those things, she would have fucked him long ago and been done with it. No, it was who he was at the very core that had made Kathryn's emotions betray her. The more she knew him, the more she wanted him. Not his body, _him_. Before Annette, sex had always seemed like the fastest way to lose him. She had never seen him want a woman after he'd fucked her a few times. Once was the general rule, with the record being five dates, and that was only because he'd wanted something other then sex.

Kathryn couldn't bare the thought of being discarded like that. It was bad enough when one of her toys broke things off before she was done with them – like the boyfriend she had before Storm, that son of a bitch Court Reynolds – but Sebastian was her equal. Her _only_ equal. So she had worked to keep him interested without ever actually giving in. It had been as much torture for her as it was for him, but she could never let him know that. She understood almost instinctively that if he ever discovered how badly she did want him, he would be able to use it against her. So she had to keep him spinning his wheels trying to make her want him. The cold unattainable ice queen. It was a role she was good at and she'd played it to perfection. And it had worked. Until it didn't. Until Annette. The interloping bitch.

"Kathryn!

She heard Sebastian calling her name, pulling her from her thoughts. It was just as well. She had been relaxing in a nice hot bath surrounded by bubbles and candle light, and thinking about Dorothy had nearly undone all their magic. "In here," she called out.

The door opened and Sebastian walked in. He silently took in the sight of her before sitting on the side of the tub.

"Want to wash my back?" She held her sponge out to him.

He gave her a knowing smirk. "I'm not interested in being teased, thank you."

"But it used to be such fun," she protested with a pout.

"For you," he said, his expression somewhere between bored and annoyed.

She raised an eyebrow. "You didn't complain at the time."

"Hindsight's twenty/twenty baby," he said with a slight smile.

"Don't you miss touching me?"

"Terribly. But I'd much rather screw you. If I can't then…" He shrugged.

She sighed. "Fine. What do you want?"

"What's the deal with that Roberts bastard you've been fucking?"

"Why? Jealous?"

"Of that loser? Why would I be jealous of a some fuck up who can't even get a woman off?"

She slid forward in the tub and placed a hand on his knee. "Then why do you want to know?"

He shrugged and looked away. "Just curious."

"You say potato, I say jealous," she said lightly as she smirked and leaned back. "We're almost out of high school. I need to prepare for my future."

"Don't tell me you're actually planning on marrying him." He looked at her in alarm, his distaste for the idea clearly etched all over his face.

"Don't be an idiot, Valmont," she said, laughing. "No, his father is in charge of an advanced program I'm trying to get into. I plan on taking over my father's firm some day, and this is my first step."

Sebastian laughed. "You're such a whore," he said with a familiar mixture of derision and admiration as he reached down and stroked her knee, which was just underneath the surface of the water. His movements seemed to be more out of habit then anything he was consciously doing to arouse her. "Are you planning on fucking the Senator too?"

"If I have to," she said with a shrug. She was used to him mocking her and being in awe of her ruthlessness at the same time. Her focus was on his fingers dipping into the water, lightly stroking her skin. His fingers were long and delicate. "At least I have a plan."

"Just because I haven't shared it with you, doesn't mean I don't have one."

There it was. Another reminder of the rift that had been between them. She moved her knee away from his hand. He pulled his fingers out of the water as if suddenly realizing what he'd been doing. He watched her silently for a second. "I'm going to into photography," he finally said.

She tried to hide the fact that she was relieved that he'd told her. They had never had any secrets between them before except two. What he wrote in his stupid journal, and how she really felt about him. "Not your family's business?"

"I don't give a damn about my family's business."

"I guess that's one of the differences between us," she said as she stood up and stepped out of the tub. She was glad to see that he didn't turn away. At least he was still interested in looking at her. She picked up a towel and wrapped it around her. She went into her bedroom and lay on her bed.

He followed her into her bedroom and sighed as he watched her stretch out on the bed, wearing nothing but the towel wrapped around her. In the past, this would have been where he'd try to cop a feel. Actually, he would have started from the moment he entered her bathroom and not stopped since. "I unfortunately have to forgo any further discussion of the riveting topic of our differences. I have a term paper I want to finish tonight. I have plans tomorrow and, and I'd rather not waste my Sunday on it."

She smiled up at him, remembering how shocked she was to learn that he usually did his own schoolwork. When she met him, she had thought he was just another pretty face, another rich playboy who either paid or fucked someone to do his work. He occasionally bought the answers to a test – usually from Blaine, the purveyor of all things illegal or even just slightly naughty in their world – but his papers were his own. She wanted to ask him to stay but refused to allow herself. He was mostly back to his old self, but something was still different, something that made her feel almost desperate to hold his attention. As if he didn't want her as much as he used to. "Night."

He leaned over and gave her what would have been a chaste kiss, except his lips lingered on hers for a few seconds too long. She licked his bottom lip as he pulled away. He straightened and looked down at her with a strange expression, his eyes dark with an emotion that she couldn't quite decipher, before turning to leave. "Night, sis."

He was almost at the door, when a sudden wave of remorse struck her from nowhere and she called his name. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry." She didn't know what the hell was bringing this on. Maybe it was her fear that she would lose him again. After all he had left her once already, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't do it again. And he'd been acting so differently since he had caught her reading his journal.

"Excuse me?" He seemed surprised. Probably because he had never heard the words 'I'm sorry' cross her lips before. At least not when she actually meant them.

"About the accident. I'm sorry," she repeated haltingly, the pressure that she'd felt in her chest at the hospital was back, squeezing at her heart.

He paused and looked at her silently for a minute. "It's okay. I understand. I know you didn't mean for… everything to happen that way."

"It's not okay. You almost…" She rolled over on her side so he couldn't see her face. She was on the verge of tears. She hadn't cried that day, the day he woke up in the hospital. The day he looked at her like he would have strangled her if he could have gotten out of bed. She had managed to stave off the tears with her iron will and, when that failed, large quantities of cocaine. Now he had reminded her of what she nearly lost. All because she had let her emotions get the better of her. If she had just waited, been patient… "I'm just… Good night Sebastian."

She felt him climb into the bed behind her. The soft reassuring pressure of his hand on her back made her shiver slightly as it moved down and to the side so that it rested on top of her hip. "It is okay," he said softly in her ear. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere ever again."

Kathryn awoke to find Sebastian gone. She looked around the house, and he was nowhere to be found. She cursed herself for acting like a jealous girlfriend. She thought about last night, the way she felt with Sebastian's arms around her. She'd felt safe. That's why she always climbed into bed with him. It was the only time she ever really felt like nothing could hurt her. He had held her and promised never to leave her again. Now he was gone, and she was behaving as if he needed to check with her before going out.

She sighed and went to work on organizing her calendar. She had a lot to do in the next few weeks, a lot of school events to plan. Two dances, a fundraiser, a clothing drive and a rally all in the next three months. She didn't have time to worry about why Sebastian seemed to have tired of her again. She rolled her eyes at her overreaction. He hadn't even been gone for half a day.

The stupid little peons who were helping with her projects had come and gone, and still no Sebastian. She pushed her thoughts of him from her mind and refused to give in to the urge to call him as she sat at her desk and color coded her schedule. Almost every second of her time was accounted for over the next month, so she needed to make sure that she was on top of things. Piece of cake. She slammed her day planner closed. She hated these people, and that school and the perfect image that she'd created. She spent so much of her time with a fake smile plastered on her face, kissing up to people that she laughed at in private. Sometimes she just wanted to slit her wrists and be done with it all.

"There's my girl." She looked up to see Sebastian standing in the doorway smiling at her, startling her from her dark thoughts, one hand behind his back. She refused to look happy to see him.

"I'm not your girl, Valmont," she said dryly, scowling as if he had interrupted her doing something of vital importance.

He gave her a cocky smirk. "Maybe not, but I'm here to rescue you from your boring existence anyway," he said, almost as if he had read her thoughts.

"Excuse me?"

"I got up early this morning to finish my paper – at the school library, to prevent a certain needy slut from distracting me – so I could make sure we could use these." He revealed the tickets that he'd been holding in his hand. There looked to be about seven or eight of them. "We're going to the theater."

At first the tickets didn't register. Had he just called her a needy slut? A slut was a stretch, but adding needy was going way too far. Then she realized that he was talking about the theater, one of her favorite things. "We? Just how many people did you invite?" She wrinkled her nose in distaste. He knew she hated going to the theater with a mob.

"Oh, it's only you and me. I bought all the seats in the box just in case you wanted to do naughty things to me that you'd rather not have anyone see."

She leveled him with a cool stare and he gave her a charming smile that almost melted it. "A bit full of yourself, aren't you?"

"Oh come on, this is the play you've been dying to see for the past two months." He moved to sit on her desk and looked down at her with that sexy pout of his. "We can sit on opposite sides of the box. You can even handcuff me to my chair if you'd like." He smiled suggestively and she couldn't help smiling back. Not the way his little sluts did, but a small, dry smile. She supposed she couldn't blame women for falling all over him the way they did though. She had never seen anyone really get over Sebastian. From the freshmen virgins that he routinely deflowered to the married contemporaries of their parents. Even a few teachers. Every one of them compared any other lover they had to Sebastian. To him, it had always been a point of pride it was his most effective weapon.

His sexiness aside, though, she was just happy to finally have him back. Her partner in crime. Her only friend. Besides Blaine of course. But playing games with Blaine wasn't nearly as fun as playing them with Sebastian. She missed his dry humor and his keen insights. Not to mention his single-minded ruthlessness in implementing a plan. Blaine's head was too easily turned by a pretty face or a nice ass.

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt," she said snatching the tickets from his hand.

He caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Good. Now go put something on that's sure to distract me throughout the entire thing."

They were discussing the play as they slowly climbed the stairs to their bedrooms, their laughter echoing through the empty house. Kathryn was definitely dressed to distract in a backless midnight blue gown, and he hadn't been the only one she distracted. When they reached their rooms, they both paused. Kathryn smiled at him. "Thank you for the play. I needed a night out."

"I think you need more than that," he said as he pressed her against the wall. "It must be frustrating to fuck an asshole who can't make you cum."

"What are you doing?"

"I just want to get you off," he said as if he were offering her a drink of water. He pulled up her dress and ran his hands up the insides of her thighs. He looked down at her with a small smile. "No underwear? Such a naughty girl…" He kissed her as he slid a finger inside her.

She reached down and began stroking his erection through his pants. "Quid pro quo?"

He pulled her hand away and held it above her head. "I cum all the time," his blue eyes dancing with laughter from some hidden joke as he slid another finger inside her cunt. They stood there in the hallway, pressed against the wall, as his fingers moved inside her. Why was she letting him do this anyway? Because she needed to… She leaned against him as she came. He leaned forward and kissed her again. "I'll see you in the morning, baby." Then he was gone. She stood there for a moment on unsteady legs to catch her breath as she looked at his closed room door.

"Damn it Sebastian," she said quietly as she went into her own room. "What the hell are you playing at?"

_Hi Kaila! I'm glad you're enjoying my twisted little tale. S&K are so much naughty fun to write!_


	6. Satisfaction

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* * *

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Chapter 6  
Satisfaction

Sebastian had gone out while Kathryn was asleep. He'd gotten himself almost as worked up as Kathryn and he needed some relief. He found it with Ann, or at least close enough. He'd had to check his desire to be aggressive and that had left him with traces of dissatisfaction. Because he didn't want to make love, he didn't want something gentle and sweet. He wanted to pound someone into the damn mattress until he spent himself. Who was he kidding? Not just someone, Kathryn.

But he had to be careful. He'd made a lot of headway so far, but it was a little too soon to try to fuck her. Even if she didn't push him away, which she likely still would, it wouldn't be good enough. No, he had to wait for her to ask him to. He was very careful to behave in a way that signaled to her that he would simply rather walk away than feel as though she was toying with him, which knocked her off balance. Off balance and wanting more then what he could give her with just his fingers. It was an extremely complex hybrid of the basic 'if you really loved me then you'd fuck me' line – which, ironically, he had used on Ann – combined with the devoted companion approach.

What he wanted from Ann, though, was more than relief. He wanted to reassure himself that they were still good together, despite his deceptions and infidelities. Fortunately, he got more satisfaction in that regard. There was something solid and pure about what he had with her. If he could just get Kathryn out of his head. If he could just cut her out, like a tumor, it would be perfect.

When he left, Ann seemed upset, but he placated her as best he could by telling her he loved her and he'd be back soon, and assuring her it was almost over. Just give him another two or three weeks and they wouldn't have to hide their relationship anymore. He would be done with Kathryn forever.

He snuck back into the house and up to his room, wondering if Kathryn had noticed his absence. Not having slept all night, he was exhausted. He took off his clothes and lay down wearing only his boxers and soon drifted off.

* * *

"Sebastian, you're going to sleep through lunch." He opened his eyes to see Kathryn sitting cross-legged on his bed. She was a vision in gray pants and a sheer pink and white shirt. A white camisole underneath ruined the effect for him, though. He liked it much better when she wore just a bra.

"Lunch? What the fuck happened to breakfast," he asked as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. From the position of the shadows in his room, it was definitely afternoon.

"You already missed that. I thought you might need your rest."

He could almost feel the ice in her voice. So she did know he'd snuck out. That was probably a good thing. "How thoughtful," he said dryly as he studied her face. "Are you jealous?"

She glared at him. "You'd fuck Blaine if he got a sex change and then not call him the next morning. Why would I be jealous of that?"

He laughed at the idea, but he understood what she meant. He wasn't exactly selective, so why would she be jealous of some random slut he'd probably never give a second thought? He started to suggest that she might be jealous because he'd actually fucked the random slut rather than her, but thought better of it. "Then what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," she snapped.

His mind was still a little fuzzy from sleep, but he was recovering quickly. If he had to hazard an educated guess he would say that, knowing Kathryn as well as he did, she was pissed that she couldn't seem to get off with anyone else, and he could with just about anyone. She hated feeling like she needed someone, and much preferred to be the one who was needed. She needed to be needed, to be worshipped. It was her Achilles heel and he knew how to exploit it better than anyone else. "Right."

She snorted in anger and started to get up and leave. It was such a female reaction that he almost laughed to see her do it. Kathryn never behaved like a female about anything. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back onto the bed. "Would you like me to stop getting you off, Kathryn," he asked softly as he rubbed the inside of her wrist with his thumb. He felt her shiver. She glared at him and he gave her his most guileless expression. "I thought I was helping you, but if you'd rather I didn't I'll stop."

"Why?"

"Why would I stop if you want me to?"

"No, idiot, why do you want to 'help' me?"

"Because you're much easier to deal with when you're not all frustrated and pissed off. You also use less coke. You're going to fucking kill yourself with that shit one day." That much was true. He hated her drug use, although he never really complained about it. After she started using, he looked up everything he could about cocaine. From that moment on, he was terrified that something bad would happen to her because of it.

She blinked at him. "That's it?"

"Yes, unless you imagine I enjoy living in a war zone with a sexually frustrated coke whore," he said dryly, careful to maintain eye contact with her as he traced lazy circles on her forearm with his fingers. Her skin was so warm and soft. "It's not like I'm teasing you. You clearly don't want to fuck me. I'm just giving you something you need. At least as much as I can without wanting more from you."

Her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. She did that a lot lately, mostly when she was frustrated with him. It was one of the very few tells she had, a sign that she was having a difficult time keeping her emotions suppressed. "I hope you enjoyed yourself last night." Her voice was cold and controlled.

"Not as much as I hoped," he said.

"What? You mean New York's Casanova finally had a conquest that he didn't enjoy," she mocked. "Was she that bad?"

He winced involuntarily at the Casanova remark – he hated those comparisons. And he knew that she knew he did. "No, actually she wasn't. It was just… like wanting double chocolate cake but finding that all they had at the bakery was lemon. You eat it because you want something sweet even if you can't have the exact thing that you really want but it's not satisfying. It's not that the lemon isn't good. It's actually pretty damn great. It just isn't double chocolate. It's not rich and decadent and mostly likely very, very bad for you." He felt like he was on the edge of something dangerous as he looked into her eyes and stroked her arm. There was a dreamy, seductive quality to his voice. Part of him wanted to stop, pull back now before things went too far.

She raised an eyebrow. "Am I double chocolate cake, Sebastian?"

He sighed as he looked away from her and broke physical contact. "I need to stop wanting you." He felt her hand on his thigh. He pulled it away and held it as he looked at her with his piercing blue eyes. "I mean it, Kathryn. If you aren't willing to fuck me, then you need to stop teasing me. I'm not going to make a fool of myself over you for another three years. Not even for another three minutes."

"Fine," she said as she snatched her hand away from his grasp. "I guess you'll just have to get used to lemon cake then."

He watched her storm out and smiled when she slammed the door. He was almost there.

* * *

"Hey sis," Sebastian said as he looked down at Kathryn. She was sitting on the floor, a rarity for her, working on the decorations in the school gym.

She looked up at him in surprise. "Hey. What are you doing here? I thought things like this were for losers and geeks."

"True. I just came by to see if you wanted a ride home."

"What happened to trying to stop wanting chocolate cake?"

"I said that I had to –" he looked around to make sure no one was listening an kneeled next to her to whisper in her ear, knowing that she'd flip out if he said anything that made someone suspect that they were anything more than devoted step siblings. "I said I had to stop wanting to fuck you. Not that I was going to avoid you all together. If you can behave yourself and not be a tease, we can still be friends."

She studied him for a moment. "I'll be ready in about 20 minutes if you want to wait."

"Okay. I'll read while I'm waiting."

He sat on the bleachers and pulled out his latest book. Within five minutes, he was surrounded by giggling girls who had heard that he was back on the market. He flirted with them outrageously as he watched Kathryn out of the corner of his eye. She looked like she wanted to throw something at them. Good, he thought. By the time Kathryn came over to ask him if he was ready, his audience was hanging on his every word, disarmed by his charm and enthralled by the completely inappropriate things he kept saying.

"You know, one day you're going to end up getting kicked out for sexual harassment," she hissed.

"My, that's an interesting shade of green you're wearing today."

"Oh, fuck you!"

"Any time you're ready, baby" he said with a smirk.

"You're such a bastard, Sebastian," she hissed as she looked around the empty hall to make sure no one was close enough to hear them. He followed her down the hall and out to the parking lot. Once they were in his car, she turned to face him. "What if someone heard what you said?"

"No one did."

"If you ruin my reputation, Valmont, I swear-"

"I know, I know. Fire and brimstone. Death and destruction." He rolled his eyes, completely tired of her fixation with maintaining her 'image'.

"I can't believe that you're being so glib about this!" She folded her arms and moved as far away from him as possible, scowling at him. He smirked. It was amusing that they were acting like an old married couple.

"Maybe because I no longer give a damn about my reputation and I can't figure out why the hell you still do. You're so much better than those small minded idiots. Why would a goddess care about what a bunch of fucking powerless hypocritical mortals think about her?"

She blinked at him, speechless. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

"Happy birthday, Valmont"

He looked up to see Kathryn in the doorway holding a nice sized gift warped box. He was in the upstairs living room writing in his journal. He had gone back to it, and it was still all about Kathryn. His obsession, his goddess. His greatest conquest. "You remembered."

"I always remember your birthday, silly rabbit. Now put that stupid thing down and open your present."

He took it from her and she sat on the couch next to him, her feet tucked underneath her. She looked so innocent sitting there, he thought. No one would ever suspect what a magnificently heinous bitch she really was. The thing that bothered him the most was that it didn't bother him anymore. He had always known what she was capable of, and he had always loved her not in spite of it, but because of it. Spending time with her again was reminding him that Kathryn was a fascinating and complex woman who could be just as vulnerable as she was hard. And he was starting to once again admire even her hardness, her cold blooded approach to getting what she wanted.

He pulled the wrapping paper off the box, throwing it carelessly on the floor, and opened it. A camera. And not just any camera, it was a vintage 1939 Gokoku No. 1, along with several rolls of #127 film. He pulled the camera out like it was fragile, though it was probably anything but. "How did you…"

"Do you like it? It belonged to a Pulitzer prize winning photo journalist."

He looked at her silently for a moment. It reminded him that she had always listened to him. Nobody had ever really listened to him except Blaine and Kathryn. "I love it. Thank you."

"You look surprised. Don't I always give you things you like?" She ran her fingers through his curly dark blond hair and he closed his eyes briefly. That had come back too, that feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when she touched him. Or had it ever gone away?

He touched her face. "Pose for me Kathryn." Kathryn had never posed for him. Most of the pictures he had of her he had gotten by sneaking up on her, or while she was asleep.

She pouted. "You know much I hate taking pictures."

"But you're so photogenic. The camera loves you. Just this once? For my birthday?"

She pursed her lips, thinking about it. "What the hell. With your new camera?"

"No, not with this one. I need to experiment with it first, and if I get only one shot for you to pose for me, then I want to use something I'm familiar with."

They spent the rest of the day outside, laughing and taking pictures. It felt… normal. Or at least as normal as they ever got. It had been a long time since they'd had normal. Things had gotten so tense between them that he had forgotten that it hadn't always been that way.

* * *

"Blaine?"

"Hmmm…"

"Blaine! Focus!"

Sebastian was stretched out next to the pool, trying to ignore Kathryn and Blaine. They were at the house in Maui for the weekend, getting away from the cold of late winter in New York. Why Kathryn wanted to stay there was beyond him. Give him somewhere warm, like this.

"Yes princess," came Blaine's slightly dazed reply.

"Stop staring at Valmont and pay attention to me!"

He sighed. "As you wish."

"Now can you get me the information or not." She wanted Blaine to dig up information on a new girl that Kathryn didn't think was being reverent enough of Kathryn's status. Sebastian smirked, wondering what she was going to do to the poor girl and if she was going to expect his help. Blaine, in addition to all his other skills, made a pretty decent investigator.

"Don't I always?"

Sebastian could hear the smile in her voice. "Yes. You're usually a very good boy when you're not drooling all over cute guys. Especially Sebastian."

"Why especially Sebastian," Blaine asked suspiciously.

"Because he distracts you from fulfilling my needs the most."

Sebastian laughed. He could almost see the pout on her gorgeous face, but he refused to look at her or even open his eyes. "You should know better Blaine. The entire world must revolve around Queen Kathryn."

The next thing he knew, his lounge was being tipped over and he slid into the pool. He came up for air. "Bitch!" He wasn't sure at first who had done it, though he suspected Kathryn, but the expletive fit in either case. Kathryn sat on his now empty lounge laughing. Blaine was snickering from his chair under the shade of the terrace.

He pulled himself out and grabbed her. She was wearing a bikini that was little more than three small square patches of fabric and string. "Oh, so you want to play, Kathryn?"

Her face turned serious, alarm suddenly flashing in her eyes. "Valmont, don't you dare throw me-" She shrieked as he unceremoniously dumped her into the pool. "Son of a bitch," she yelled once she surfaced. "I can't fucking believe you did that!"

"You're right. I should have seen how far I could toss you. Next time." She splashed water at him and he laughed. She started laughing too, despite herself.

"Help me out Valmont," she ordered in her usual imperious manner, ever the queen.

"No, you vicious little bitch. You'll pull me in."

"No I won't. I promise."

He sighed, knowing that he'd regret it. "Fine." He kneeled next to the side of the pool and held out his hand. He prepared himself to be pulled in as she took it and let him pull her out.

"See. I told you I wouldn't pull you in," she whispered in his ear. She kissed him on the cheek as she sat down next to him on the edge of the pool. Without warning, she gave him a shove, sending him tumbling back into the pool head-first. "But I didn't say anything about not pushing you," she said as he bobbed back up. She gave him a sweet smile and walked back to the house.

"Evil slut," he called after her as he admired the way her hips swayed as she walked away.

* * *

_I'm glad you're enjoying my story so far, FemminaPerfetta._


	7. Happiness

_Warning to all the Annette haters, this chapter is told from her prospective. Since it's Annette pov, it's by far the tamest chapter in the story. I said earlier that I didn't hate her. In fact, I've always wondered what Annette is thinking or feeling about what's going on while Sebastian and Kathryn play cat and mouse._

**Chapter 7  
Happiness**

Annette Hargrove awoke to find Sebastian gone. Ever since she'd forgiven him for calling her Kathryn's name while they were making love in his room, he'd never stayed an entire night. He'd said that he had only called her Kathry just to make it look real. She had believed him, but thought it would be pointless to explain how that made it worse. He had deliberately hurt someone he claimed to love just to get even with someone he claimed to care nothing about. Why couldn't he just forget about Kathryn and be happy? She couldn't help taking it as a bad sign that he seemed unwilling or unable to do that. She had eventually forgiven him – she didn't seem to be able to stay angry with him no matter what he did. He always knew the right thing to say, the right look to give her, the right way to touch her. It was as if he had some evil superpower that kept her tied to him even when she knew she should probably be running in the other direction.

She got into the shower as she thought about last night. It had been like it always was – sweet, tender and profound. It was like he saw into her soul, knew how she wanted to be touched and kissed. She shivered as the hot water ran over her skin. Now he was gone and she was alone. She got out as the water started to turn lukewarm.

As she dressed, she couldn't help but think back to the aftermath of the accident. He had seemed so angry with Kathryn and so happy with Ann. But that hadn't lasted. Even though he still seemed angry with his stepsister sometimes, she had also seen the way he looked at her when he thought Ann wasn't paying attention. In hindsight, she should have known how he felt about Kathryn after reading his journal. She had been the central theme, the only theme, it contained. Even when he was giving a vicious, scathing critique of her, he still sounded almost awestruck.

She had tried to convince herself that Kathryn was evil personified because it was easier that way. Easier to absolve Sebastian if she believed that Kathryn was his pied piper. The Svengali who had led him astray and corrupted his good character. But Ann was far too honest with herself to hold onto self-deception for long. Unfortunately, being honest didn't stop her from loving Sebastian.

She had just finished with her hair and makeup when her phone rang. She looked at the caller id, hoping it was Sebastian, calling from Hawaii. Would he have landed there already? It was Robert. She felt her heart catch in her throat. She hadn't spoken to him since she left him for Sebastian. Why was he calling her now? She wanted to ignore the call. She still felt guilty for what she'd done to him, and she didn't know what to say. Finally, after the third ring, she took a deep breath and answered.

"Hello," she said, sounding a little hesitant.

"Hey, Ann! It's Bobby. How are you?" It's Bobby. As if she could ever forget him.

"I'm doing alright. How are you?"

"I'm good. I'm in New York for a few days. I started not to call you. I didn't know if you'd want to see me."

She was silent for a moment, trying to decide what to do. She couldn't believe that he wanted to see her at all. "Sure. I think I can spare a few minutes to have coffee with an old friend."

* * *

Annette felt a little wistful as she sat across from him at the coffee shop down the street from her apartment. She and Robert had been much more then old friends. They had made plans for a future together. Marriage, children, mission work in South America. He was going to be a pastor of a small church and she was going to be a doctor. He would heal their souls, she would heal their bodies and together they would feed, cloth and teach them. Perfect fit. He hadn't changed much. His neat sandy hair was cut a bit shorter and didn't fall into his eyes on occasion anymore, and there was a touch of sadness in his gray eyes that hadn't been there before.

"What brings you to New York," she asked finally after they had gotten through all the small talk and discussed everyone back home.

"Mission's conference."

"So you're still planning on doing that?"

He nodded. "They still need someone new. Pastor Ringle isn't getting any younger, and surprisingly there just aren't that many people willing to move out to the middle of nowhere and live in a hut for the rest of their lives."

She smiled. "They'll be lucky to have you."

"Are you still planning on becoming a doctor?"

"Yes. They have a pre med track at the high-school and I've already heard from a few good colleges. Just trying to decide which one is best right now." The truth was that she was waiting for Sebastian to make up his mind where he wanted to go. She realized how pathetic that was. Not that she wanted to be close to the man that she loved. But that she had basically changed everything about herself to suit him. He had done the same for her, and they still didn't quit meet somewhere in the middle. "I was thinking of working at a free clinic once I finish."

Bobby studied her quietly, his warm gray eyes searching her face. Ann had always love his eyes. They were so kind and thoughtful. "Ann, are you happy?"

The question startled her. Was she happy? Yes, for a few hours every two or three days. When she was with Sebastian and he made her forget about everything else except what they felt for each other. Then she was deliriously happy. But the rest of the time… She felt tears sting her eyes and she tried to blink them away.

"Ann?" He reached over and touched her face the way he always used to and her tears started in earnest.

She cried on his shoulder until she couldn't cry anymore, until she was exhausted from it. "I'm sorry," she said, trying to push him away. She was thoroughly ashamed of herself.

"It's okay. What are friends for?" He smiled at her reassuringly. "I just wish I could take your pain away."

She frowned at him. "Why aren't you angry with me?" Things would be so much easier if he were angry, if he weren't so aggrevatingly kind.

He laughed. "Why would I be angry with you?"

"Because I…" She let her voice trailed off and sighed. He handed her a napkin and she wiped her face.

"Dumped me? Rather unceremoniously?" He shrugged. "Maybe I should be. But I love you. I just want you to be happy. I had hoped that you were. It would have been worth it if you were."

"What would have been worth it?"

He looked away. "Losing you. If I can't make you happy, I'd rather that you be with someone who can."

Her heart ached at that. The truth of the matter was that he had made her happy. She had forgotten how it had been with him. If he answered a question, you could always believe that he was telling you the truth. She had taken that for granted when she had it. Bobby hadn't been perfect, and neither had she. But they had worked together. They had the same dreams, the same goals. They wanted to spend their lives helping people who weren't as blessed as they were.

* * *

Ann ended up canceling her plans for a movie and dinner with some friends to take Bobby on a tour of New York.

"He's in love with someone else."

They were standing outside the Metropolitan Museum of Art when she blurted it out.

"What," Bobby asked, surprised at the suddenness of her statement.

"Sebastian is in love with someone else."

"How can any man in his right mind not be in love with you?" She looked at him to see if he were teasing her and saw the sincerity in his eyes. She smiled. This was Bobby she was talking to.

"He loves me too." She could tell from the look on his face that he was doubtful. He didn't believe that you could love multiple people.

"He told you this?"

"That he loves her? No. I don't think he's admitted it to himself yet. But I see it."

"Is that why you're unhappy?"

"Partly. It's also because we're from completely different worlds. It's not a class issue. It's… it's the way he sees the world, the way he thinks. He doesn't believe in the same things I do. And I know he hides things from me. Sometimes he even lies outright."

"Why do you stay with him?"

"I don't know. It's hard to explain. I am happy when we're actually together. It's just when we're not that I have the problem with. He just knows how to make it all seem like nothing matters except how we feel."

"Ann, a wise woman once told me that love isn't how you feel. It's what you do."

* * *

They were standing on the stoop of her apartment building in silence. It was late, but neither of them wanted to say goodnight.

"I had fun tonight, Ann. I missed you."

"I missed you too, Bobby."

"Well, I'd probably better be going," he said but made no move to leave. He just stood there looking down at her. "Just give me the word, and I'll go bet the hell out of this Sebastian guy. You deserve to be happy."

She laughed. "Is that allowed for Divinity students? Beating the hell out of people?"

He smiled and shrugged. "I'm sure that under the right circumstances exceptions can be made. Night, Ann."

She reached out and tentatively touched his hand. "You did make me happy, Bobby." She kissed him on the cheek quickly before going inside.

* * *

Sometimes she would sneak Sebastian into her bedroom. Her father trusted her so much – too much – that he never checked on her and never noticed what she was up too. But it happened so infrequently that it was easy to hide. Usually, Sebastian would send her flowers and a card. On the card was the number of the room he had rented for them at the Belleclaire Hotel. It was always a beautiful room, but it made her feel… cheap.

She sat on her bed looking at the card she'd just received and thinking about her visit with Bobby. She missed her old life, but she ached for Sebastian. She had been forewarned about him and she had still let herself fall for him.

Eventually she went to met him there. He opened the door looking rested and tanned, his blue eyes perfectly complimented by the pistachio green shirt he wore.

"Hey," he said softly as he touched the side of her face. "You're late. Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine. I had some things to deal with. How was Maui?"

He smiled as he pulled her into his arms. "It was Maui. Pretty damn near perfect. I'll take you next winter. We can spend the entire winter break in swim suites." He kissed her and she forgot everything that had been bothering her. "We can dance on the beach in the moonlight. Go deep-sea diving."

She felt his lips on her neck as he unbuttoned her blouse. She unbuckled his pants. They undressed each other quickly. Sebastian carried her to the bed and lowered her onto it. Making love with Sebastian was never quick. He usually put the emphasis on foreplay, prolonging it sometimes for hours. So, it was nearly two hours later that they lay next to each other, breathing heavily. "I missed you," he said finally.

"I missed you too," she said as she curled up against him.

"What have you been up to while I was gone?"

She paused for a moment. Not because she was afraid to tell him about Bobby, but because thinking about him brought back all her doubts. "Bobby was in town for a conference. I showed him around the city."

She felt him stiffen. "Bobby? You're ex, Bobby?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Did you have a good time?"

"Yes. It was good to see him again."

"Annette, look at me," he said softly. She looked up into his eyes. He studied her silently for a minute. "Do you miss him? Is that what's wrong?"

She was tempted to lie. She didn't want to hurt him. "I loved him," she said simply.

He frowned thoughtfully and kissed her forehead.

When she went home that night, she was careful not to wake her father. He probably knew that she was having sex, but he had never said anything about it. He had told her long ago that when she had sex was her decision, he just wanted her to be careful with her body and her heart. "Everybody thinks they know what love is when they're your age," he'd said. "Most of the time, though, they find out they were wrong."

It had been bad enough to face everyone after having so loudly and publicly declaring that she would keep her virginity until marriage. But it was far worse facing her father. Sometimes she felt as if she'd become a different person, and it was a person that she didn't always respect.

* * *

_Thanks for the high praise Kaila! I hope you like this chapter, even though it's not S/K centric. We'll get back to them in Chapter 8._


	8. Falling

**Chapter 8  
****Falling**

"Where are you going to school?"

Sebastian's head rose from his book and he looked at Kathryn over the top of his reading glasses. He was sitting at his desk, slowly smoking a cigar as he read the last chapter of _Sons and Lovers_. "Excuse me?"

"What school are you going to get your degree in photography from?" She had been up all night, thinking about it and finally came into his room to ask him after lunch so it wouldn't seem obvious that the question had cost her sleep. It had finally sunk in that she and Sebastian might be separated. She didn't like that possibility. If she were separated from him, she would be all alone again. She already knew what it was like to be without him. She didn't want to go through that again.

"I haven't made up my mind yet."

"Oh."

"Oh, what?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Just curious."

"Are you staying in New York?"

She shrugged. "The program's here. At New York University."

"Aren't you tired of this place?"

"Why would I be tired of it? I'm the queen."

"As I recall, you once said that you occasionally wanted to kill yourself. The mask you wear is suffocating you."

She laughed at him, amused. "Where the fuck did you get that line?"

"From Tuttle. I know what you're thinking. It's just so much tripe. That's what I thought at first too. But I'm starting to think it's true."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever Valmont."

He smirked and went back to his book. She watched him silently for a few minutes as she sat on his bed. He seemed to sense that she was going to speak again and held up his hand. She pouted and lay down as she watched him. Finally, he closed the book and looked at her. "It's kind of late for you not to have picked a college, don't you think?"

He sighed, took off his glasses and put them and the book on the desk. He got up and went over to the bed. She felt herself getting warm as he looked down at her. "What I think is that you're getting all worked up over nothing. I told you that I wasn't going to leave you."

She scowled at him. "I don't need you, Valmont. I was just concerned that you would wait too long. All the best colleges will be full by the time you get around to registering."

He smiled. "Just admit that you'd miss me if I were gone."

"You're insufferable."

"I'd miss you."

"Really? I seem to recall you saying that you never wanted to see me again."

"We both say a lot of things that we don't mean. Besides, that was before I remembered why I enjoy being with you. There's nothing wrong with wanting someone's company. I'm the only one who knows you, Kathryn. Just like you're the only one who knows me. My life would be very lonely without you."

* * *

"How did you get out of doing this," Kathryn asked as she finished the last touches of her makeup. She knew Sebastian would know she meant submitting to a big 18th birthday bash. She heard him chuckle – thank god the giggling was a thing of the past – from where he lounged on her four poster bed, chin in his hand, watching her. He was wearing a tux and he looked good in it. He looked good in anything.

"I threatened to leave the country if they tried to throw me one. The south of France is nice that time of year. Neither one of them wanted the embarrassment of having an absent guest of honor, so they dropped it."

"You might have clued me in. What kind of brother are you?"

"The kind that has extremely indecent thoughts about his little sister."

"Stepsister," she corrected as she heard his dress shoes on the hardwood floor as he got up and approached her. She watched his reflection in the mirror as he stood behind her, stroking her back with his finger tips. She knew he had to feel her shudder under his touch, but he never tried to push things anymore. "And I'm only about a month younger then you."

"I thought you liked things like this. Being admired and worshiped."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I do like being admired and worshiped" she purred, turning to face him. "I especially the type of worship that's best done on one's knees."

He smiled down at her. "Worship is always best done on one's knees. Unless of course it's mutual worship."

She turned back to the mirror to check herself one more time, trying to ignore the warmth that was spreading through her at the look in his eyes. "I enjoyed the way we celebrated your birthday. It was…"

"Fun?"

She smiled up at his reflection. "Is that what they call it?"

Their comfortable moment was interrupted by banging on the door. "Aren't you ready yet?" She could hear the passive-aggressive disapproval in her mother's tone and cringed. This was already the fifth thing she'd done to earn Tiffany's anger today.

"I'll be out in less than one minute mother."

"See that you are. I'll go entertain your guests while we're waiting. Where is your brother, by way?"

Kathryn threw a pleading look at Sebastian. He was always at fucking with Tiffany, and had insinuated to her on numerous occasions that he wanted to screw Kathryn just to piss her off. That's why Tiffany always referred to him as her brother – to remind her that any type of sexual relationship between the two would be unacceptable. He rolled his eyes, his way of agreeing to leave Tiffany alone. For now, anyway. "He had to step out for a minute," she lied. "He said he'd be right back."

"What is wrong with that boy! I swear he does these things just to spite me!" Sebastian nodded his head in solomn agreement and Kathryn almost laughed out loud. "Just get yourself downstairs, young lady. Immediately."

They listened to her retreating footsteps as she stalked off.

"For a second there," Sebastian said dryly, "I thought she was going to threaten to huff and puff and blow your door in."

"No," she said, heading for the door. "That's not mother's style. It's more likely that she'd come in through the fucking terrace on her broomstick." She paused at the door. "Please, Sebastian… don't start anything with her, okay? I just want to get through this without wanting to fling myself from the roof." She fiddled with her crucifix, wanting nothing more then to take a few more hits, stay up here with Sebastian and forget about being the perfect birthday girl.

He put his hand over hers. His closeness calmed her. She closed her eyes and felt his lips lightly brush against hers. "Anything you want, princess."

"Princess? What the hell happened to goddess?" She looked up into his clear blue eyes.

He laughed. "That's my girl."

She returned his smile. "How do I look?" She wondered if it was obvious that she'd eaten lunch… she had snuck an apple when Tiffany wasn't looking.

He pursed his lips as he looked at her critically. She suddenly felt nervous, as if she cared what he thought. "Good enough to eat," he finally said, kissing her neck before opening the door for her.

* * *

"Kathryn, please."

She looked up, or rather down, at Storm. They were in her bed. She was on her back, her dress up around her waist and her panties somewhere on the floor where he'd thrown them. The back of the dress had been unzipped and pulled down, exposing her satin and lace dark purple bra that contrasted beautifully with her pale skin and made her green eyes seem to glow. He was shirtless and kneeling between her parted legs. "Oh, are you still here?" Her voice clearly showed her disinterest.

"Can't we just have sex? I'm still hard-"

She rolled her eyes. Was he actually begging? "No, you stupid prick. Now, get the fuck out." She went back to ignoring him, waiting for him to finally get the hint and leave her the hell alone. The idiot couldn't even make her cum, and he thought he was going to get off? No, not tonight, not unless he did it himself or found some stupid slut willing to fuck him. He had already outlived his usefulness anyway. She took a cigarette from the case next to her bed and lit it.

"But-"

"You heard the… lady." Sebastian was standing in her doorway, staring at Storm. The sarcasm in his voice when he said the word 'lady' was so faint that only Kathryn caught it.

Storm jumped up, looking ashamed of himself for being caught en flagrante delicto with Kathryn by her 'brother,' and grabbed his shirt and shoes. He strode past Sebastian with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. Kathryn wanted to laugh. She wondered what he'd do if he knew how many times her stepbrother had tried to seduce her. Or how much she had wanted to let him.

"You do understand that I'll have to beat the shit out of you if you come back, don't you," Sebastian called out after him casually. He leaned against the door jamb looking bored as he watching Storm leave. After they heard the front entrance close, Sebastian came back inside and closed the door.

"Playing the protective big brother?" Kathryn smiled at him. She made no attempt to cover herself. There had never been much modesty between them, and she had no desire to start now. She felt herself flush at the way his gaze took in her exposed body before he brought it back to her eyes.

"Oh, believe me baby, absolutely nothing going through my mind right now is the least bit brotherly." He began walking slowly towards her bed. "Especially when you leave your naughty bits just lying right out in the open like that."

She gave him a small teasing smile as she watched him. "Bastard."

"Slut."

"Asshole."

"Bitch." He sat on the bed and took the cigarette from her hand. "So did he fuck you?" He spoke in a conversational tone, as if he were asking if she thought it might rain. He took a drag from the cigarette as he looked at her, the intensity in his eyes the only thing contradicting his bored and jaded rich brat demeanor.

She just shook her head, her eyes locked on his, the teasing smile still dancing at the corners of her mouth, her green eyes dark and intense.

"Did you suck his cock," he asked, still keeping his voice casual as he ran his fingers lightly along the inside of her exposed thighs.

"No," she sighed. His hands felt so good. "He just fingered me. But…"

"He couldn't make you cum?" He repositioned himself and moved her closest leg so that it was over his lap. He leaned over with his elbow on the other side of her far leg and rested his head on his hand so that he could get a better view of her exposed cunt as he took another drag of the cigarette.

She shook her head again. "Care to lend me a hand?"

He kissed the inside of her thigh and smiled up at her as she gave another shuddering sigh. "Are you sure a hand's all you want? I think I can manage a little lip service too. I've been told that I'm very skilled in that area."

"Is that the extent of your skills?" She took the cigarette from him and took a long drag before putting it in the ashtray.

"No," he said as he slid his thumb inside her. She gasped and her eyes lost focus for an instant. "You can make use of whatever part of my anatomy you'd like. I think you'll find that I'm," he paused as he removed his thumb and replaced it with two fingers, rubbing her clit with his wet thumb, "very versatile."

She moaned and arched her back. He licked and nipped at the skin of her thighs as he fingered her. She was having trouble remembering how it was that she had managed to avoid fucking him for so long. He leaned forward and began to lick and suck her clit. Kathryn was sure that everyone on the Upper East Side could hear her. No wonder it got so loud in his bedroom sometimes. After she'd cum three times and was on her way to the fourth, she grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him away from her. "Fuck me," she said, her voice somewhere between commanding and pleading.

She shuddered at the hunger in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to devour her and, she thought darkly, he probably would – in more ways than one. "Don't fucking tease me," he said hoarsely.

She could tell that he was serious. "Stop talking and fuck me, Valmont," she said, meeting his eyes, letting him know that she was serious too. She wasn't playing a game. She just wanted to finally feel him inside of her, the consequences be damned. He stood up and took off his clothes, never taking his eyes off her.

He returned to his spot between her legs and began removing her clothes. He was driving her crazy and she knew he was doing it on purpose. Anticipation, he had once told her, was the world's greatest aphrodisiac. Once he had her undressed he began to kiss her body, nipping and licking her skin playfully, his hands everywhere. She started to reciprocate, but he grabbed her wrists and held them over her head. "You can be in charge next time," he whispered in her ear before nibbling it. He slid his tongue inside, as if he wanted to taste her everywhere. Then his lips were on hers and the hard shaft of his cock was rubbing against her clit. She could taste herself on his mouth. She usually hated that, but she didn't hate it now.

"I want my cock in you," he said. "Condom…"

"I'm on the pill. Just fuck me, damn it! And don't be gentle about it!"

"Who the fuck said anything about being gentle?" With one hard thrust he was inside her, and it was like the whole world suddenly collapsed and there was nothing but her cunt and his cock. Nothing else mattered, nothing else registered on her consciousness. She was saying things, but she had no idea what they were or if they made any sense. She felt his hands on her body, felt his mouth on hers, but it was trivial, almost non-existent compared to what she felt where they were joined. He was rough, almost frantic, as she wrapped her legs around him and met each thrust. All she wanted was more of him inside of her.

When she came, she felt like she was tumbling over a precipice, like she was falling and would never stop. She clung to Sebastian as she fell and cried out wordlessly. He buried himself inside her as deeply as he could and let out a loud groan. He shuddered against her, his body rigid, for a few moments and then collapsed. Her own trembling didn't stop all at once, but kept reverberating through her body in lessening intensities like aftershocks following a big earthquake. She had never experienced anything that incredibly powerful before. She felt drained. Almost too drained to feel fear in the back of her mind that she would awaken to find that it had all been a dream. Or, worse, Sebastian was finished with her now that he had finally gotten what he wanted and be gone when she woke up in the morning, for good this time.

Neither of them moved, or even spoke, for a long time. They just lay there, drenched in sweat, him on top of her, her legs and arms wrapped tightly around him, his softening cock inside her. Finally, long after her shuddering ceased and he regained enough strength to move, he lifted his head and looked at her. He rolled onto his side, his head propped up with his hand, as he ran his other hand along her side. His eyes were deep blue pools of an emotion that she had never seen there before and that she had no idea how to identify. He leaned forward and kissed her softly, almost tenderly. That was another first. Then he kissed her eye, then her forehead.

"Would you like me to stay," he asked, his voice hushed, almost reverent.

She merely nodded and curled against him. All she wanted was him next to her. He covered them both with her sheets and held her as she drifted to sleep.

* * *

She woke up in her bed, alone. Her first thought was that last night had been a dream. A really vivid, sexy dream. It wouldn't be the first time she had dreamed about fucking Sebastian. This dream would have been the best one yet. But then, her body told her that it had been no dream. She never felt like this the morning after being with anyone else. Her next thought was that Sebastian had left again. He had finally gotten what he wanted and now he was gone. Then she heard her toilet flush and the bathroom door opened a few seconds later. He smiled at her as he returned to the bed, still naked.

"Morning baby," he said softly as he pulled her close to him and kissed her.

She felt her heart pounding in her chest, a little too fast and too loud. She wondered if he could hear it. She didn't like how afraid she had gotten. It wasn't like her to be clingy. "You didn't sneak out last night," she said as coolly as she could muster.

He smiled. "Why would I want to sneak out? Especially when I love everything about fucking you. I love the way you smell, the way you taste, the way you feel." He took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked on until it was hard. She arched her back and cried his name.

Looking up at her, he smiled again. "And I really love it when you say my name like that. It's such a fucking turn on." He moved to her other breast when she abruptly pushed him away. He looked at her, confused. "What's wrong?"

"You said I could be in control this time," she said softly as she gave him a shove and suddenly he was on his back and she was straddling him. "Remember?"

He grinned up at her. "I seem to recall that now that you mention it."

She kissed her way down his body, stopping to tease his nipples. She bit them, not hard, but he still cried out in surprise the first time she did it. He seemed surprised, as if none of the women he'd been with had ever done that to him before. They probably hadn't. He always teased her for fucking men who didn't know what they were doing – but he did the same thing. Most of the women he fucked were novices, and even the ones that weren't had probably never acquired the level of skill that Kathryn prided herself on.

She let her long hair slide across his skin as she moved, tickling him a little. She smiled up at him as she continued her agonizingly slow journey downward, licking and kissing his skin, tasting him the way he had tasted her last night. He groaned as she paused at his belly button, sliding her tongue inside, teasing the sensitive skin. "Fuck, Kathryn, you're driving me crazy baby."

"That's the idea, silly," she said as she avoided his cock altogether and began licking his thighs just below it.

"Kathryn, please," he panted.

"Please what," she asked teasingly, she licked his balls. He was watching her every move, lips parted, panting. He reached for her and she slapped his hand away. "Bad boy. Am I going to have to handcuff you to the bed?"

He smiled lazily. "We can do that next time."

"Next time?"

"There's so many things I want to try with you. So many fantasies."

"We have time. Now tell Kathryn what you want." She gently ran a fingernail down the sensitive underside of his cock. "Please what, Sebastian?"

She was pretty sure that she had begged last night, though not much was clear beyond the fact that she had thoroughly enjoyed his skills. So she thought it was only fair to make him beg too.

"Please suck my cock," he said finally, looking into her eyes. She smiled and obliged him. His head rolled back and he let out a loud moan. "Fuck, you're good at that."

She showed him just how good she was at it until he almost came, then she pulled away from him.

He groaned. "Please, baby, I'm almost there."

"It's okay. I'll get you off… I just want you inside me again," she said as she crawled back up his body and positioned herself. She watched his face as she lowered herself slowly onto him. She liked the way he was looking at her. There was something more than lust in his eyes. Something soft and tender. Something that she never thought she would see after last summer. She let him touch her then, let him play with her breasts, rub her clit. He left the tempo to her, even though she could tell that it drove him crazy when she slowed down, savoring the feeling of finally having him. When she finally came, she pressed her body against his, while he took over. He held her hips and pumped up into her as she cried out his name over and over, like a prayer or a plea. She wasn't sure which it was. Maybe it was both. He came then too, holding her tightly against him.

"Kathryn," she heard him murmur. "My Kathryn, my Venus."


	9. Torn

**Chapter 9  
****Torn**

He lay on the bed in the hotel room waiting for Ann to arrive, preoccupied with memories of Kathryn naked, underneath him as he fucked her as hard and as deep as he could. Or Kathryn taking his cock, all of it, into her mouth, her green eyes searing into his as she held it there for an impossibly long time. He gasped at the memory, his body reacting of its own accord. He knew it was a fucked up thing to do, thinking about Kathryn while waiting for Ann. The whole situation was fucked up, and he no longer knew what the hell he was doing. Was he in love with Ann and just trying to get Kathryn out of his system? Was he angry with Kathryn for her treatment of him and out for revenge? Or was all that an excuse? A useful subterfuge so that he wouldn't have to admit that he simply wanted her. He hadn't left before she woke up like he'd planned to. He couldn't. All he wanted was to be next to her. She looked so happy that she glowed, even in her sleep.

He had no doubt that he loved Ann, but he had wanted Kathryn longer. There was something else too, beyond the raw desire he had for her. He wasn't sure if it was love or just some deep-seated need he seemed to have that refused to go away. He did know that what he had with Kathryn was built on a mutual understanding that he knew he would never have with Ann. On the other hand, his relationship with Kathryn was toxic – unstable, volatile, dangerous. It had already nearly killed him once. He felt as if staying with Kathryn would end up destroying him.

Part of him was still angry, still wanted to reduce her to a conquest, the way she had reduced him to a toy. Wanted to make her give up everything for him, to strip her completely and then humiliate her for it. Just like she had stripped and humiliated him. But that hadn't been what he was thinking about this morning, when he was inside of her, was it? His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

He got up and let Ann in. He immediately pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He smiled down at her, feeling disloyal. He didn't like the fact that he felt like he was betraying Kathryn now with Ann, when he hadn't even thought of Ann while he was with Kathryn. He didn't want to think about that right now.

After they'd made love he lay on his back, his arms around her, staring at the ceiling.

"I love you, baby."

"Love isn't what you feel. It's what you do." He turned his head to look at her and felt like her blue eyes were piercing into his soul, seeing the rottenness there. He recoiled from her slightly.

"Where'd you get that from," he asked irritably, feeling suddenly unnerved.

"It's just something I used to say. Something I used to believe."

He looked over at her. She was staring off into the distance. He was suddenly afraid that he was losing her. Ann wasn't a stupid woman. That was one of the things that he loved about her. She wasn't innocent, not the way people thought she was... she was genuinely good, but she was no babe in the woods. She had to know that he'd been lying to her, perhaps even that he'd been fucking around. She had to notice that occasionally his mind kept drifting off to something else. Someone else. He'd been able to justify it all as necessary evils, things he needed to do to win the game. But now he saw how unfair he'd been to her, how selfish his actions were.

"I think you were right," he said after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"About what?"

"I should just forget all about Kathryn. It's not worth it." It's not worth losing this, losing Ann, he thought as he held her tightly. He knew with a frightening certainty that he would lose her if he kept playing this game with Kathryn. He looked over at Ann. He really did love her. If he had half a brain, he would just forget about Kathryn and concentrate on her, building a life with her.

* * *

"What the fuck crawled up your ass and died?" They were sitting in Blaine's living room, drinking beer. Sebastian had been bad tempered and snippy the entire time he'd been there and Blaine finally seemed to have had enough.

"I'm completely fucked, Tuttle."

"Why?"

"Kathryn and I…" He paused and looked away. He didn't know what to call what they'd done last night and this morning. He would normally have said they fucked, but that seemed completely inadequate to describe it. The things that woman could do with her mouth… He shuddered involuntarily at the memory.

"Finally," Blaine said, obviously figuring out that the two had fucked and completely unfazed by it. In fact, he seemed relieved.

"Finally? That's all you have to say?"

Blaine shrugged. "What? I was getting tired of watching the two of you during your three and a half year mating dance. You belong together, like Lucy and Rickie. Like Fred and Ginger. Like Faye Ray and King Kong. Like Bert and Ernie. I tried to tell you, but you didn't listen."

Sebastian stared at Blaine, momentarily speechless. "Burt and fucking Ernie? The Muppets, Tuttle?"

"Yeah, who else would I be talking about?" When they were kids, Blaine had been obsessed with Sesame Street, especially Burt and Ernie.

"They weren't a couple. They were fucking Muppets!" Sebastian fought a smile. This was an old ritual. They would pick some stupid random thing and argue over it. He knew this was Tuttle's way of trying to cheer him up a little.

"Don't piss on my fantasies," he hissed dramatically and Sebastian almost laughed.

"They didn't have cocks, Tuttle. And they were like seven year olds."

"How do you know they didn't have cocks? You ever see them undressed? Besides, their love transcended the physical."

"I really don't know what to say at this point. I fucking give up," he laughed.

"Seriously, the two of you are like an epic couple. Bigger than life."

"And all this time, I thought you wanted me for yourself."

"True, but the only person I could ever stand losing you to is Kathryn. I bet it was really good," Blaine said with a dreamy look in his eyes and sounding more than a little envious. "Was it really good?"

"Good?" Sebastian laughed again. "My friend, fucking is almost always good. At least for a man. How good it is for a woman depends on the skill of her lover. All we need is something tight and well lubricated, and we have good. What Kathryn and I did was in a whole different category. There should be a whole fucking new word or phrase coined for it."

"You mean like 'make love?'"

Sebastian glared at Blaine, who was looking at him with a knowing smirk. He was angry, not with Tuttle, but because he knew Tuttle was right. Both he and Kathryn had mocked the idea of 'making love,' and had stubbornly refused to use the term except to deride other people; people they thought were beneath them. That's why they had always purposely used words like 'fuck,' 'cock,' and 'cunt.' To them sex wasn't something they ever saw as romantic or beautiful. It was something to use as a weapon against the ordinary people. Their bodies were just tools to get what they wanted and romanticizing a tool was just foolish. They had been above anything as pedestrian and weak as love, and far too smart to fall for the lie that there could ever be anything special about sex. Or so he had thought. Until he met Ann.

With Ann, he had to suppress many of his natural impulses in order to make her happy. There was no such problem with Kathryn. But while Kathryn might be in love with him, she still hadn't admitted it to herself, and would likely mock him if he even hinted at what he felt for her. "You know, I thought if I just fucked her once, I could get her out of my system and finally, finally, be able to move on. But I just made it worse."

"No gorgeous," Tuttle said sympathetically, "you just see the truth now. Having your head buried in the sand isn't necessarily better."

Sebastian's lips twisted in a bitter smirk. "Yes, oh wise one," he said sarcastically.

"Go ahead and mock me. I haven't been wrong yet."

He was angry with himself for lapsing into sentimentality. There couldn't be any future with Kathryn, who would never admit that she felt anything for him and would never consent to really be with him because their parents were stupid enough to marry each other. What he felt didn't fucking matter. "You are wrong. The truth is that I love Ann. Kathryn is just… is just like some fucking malignant tumor that just keeps getting bigger, destroying every fucking thing in its path."

Tuttle rolled his eyes and frowned at him. "Damn, and they call me a drama queen."

* * *

He found Kathryn in her bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. She was wearing nothing but a green silk robe. He stopped there, in the middle of her bedroom, watching her through the door. It completely escaped his mind that he had come in here to give her one of his break up speeches, the nasty one that said, 'You were pretty decent fuck, but I'm really not into you. Been there once – or twice – and I'm so over it now. Have a nice life.'

A slow smile spread across her face. "I know you're there, watching me," she said softly. "Fucking pervert." She still didn't move, never took her eyes off her reflection, and he wondered why she was looking at herself so attentively. He walked in and stood staring down at her. The strength of his desire for her surprised him. His body was literally aching for her. He thought back to the sight of her on her bed, her dress bunched around her waist and precious little left to the imagination. Anyone else would have looked like a cheap slut, but not Kathryn. She was seduction personified and nothing could reduce her to being cheap, much less a slut.

"Are you high?"

"No. I'm crashing."

"Is that why you aren't dressed," he asked as he tugged at the belt holding her robe closed, pulling the slip knot loose and allowing the robe to fall open. He put his hand on her stomach and slid it around her waist, pulling her against him. She was like a fucking drug. The more he had of her, the more he wanted.

"You want me to dress now," she asked as he kissed the side of her face and she leaned into him.

"If it were up to me," he said, "I'd never let you get dressed again. I'd burn all your damn clothes. You could keep your lingerie. The bikinis too. I like how you look in bikinis. The fucking robe would have to go too. Covers too much up."

"And keep me here for your amusement?" She finally looked at him.

He leaned away and met her eyes. "I had something more equal in mind. Like us amusing each other. You can even burn all my clothes if it would make you feel better."

"Even your precious Armani suits?"

"Yes." He stroked her face.

"You still want to fuck me, Sebastian?"

That was his opening, but he laughed instead of launching into his speech. "Is that a trick question? Of course I do. Is that what's wrong with you? You're worried that I'm tired of you now and ready to move on?"

She slid her robe off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. "Isn't that usually how it works?"

"Yes. But not with you." He let her slide his jacket off.

She slipped her hands underneath his mock turtleneck and stroked his skin. He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath before pulling the shirt off. "I bet you said that to Annette too."

He felt her tremble as he cupped her breasts. "And I meant it. If I hadn't been for you…" She squeezed his balls though his pants and he inhaled sharply. "Fuck, Kathryn!"

"Does that mean you want me more?" She licked his bottom lip.

"I want you more than anything I've ever wanted or had in my entire life." He didn't know what had possessed him to admit that. It was never a good idea to show weakness to Kathryn. She may be vulnerable to him right now, but she was still a very dangerous woman. A dangerous woman who was every bit as skilled a lover as he was, and too damn good at getting someone to give a candid answer in the heat of the moment. Which was why he had to be careful every minute he was with her.

She smiled up at him as she undid his pants, yanking his belt out of the loops in one well-practiced movement and dropping it next to his jacket. "Did you really mean it that day when you said I was a goddess?"

His pants fell to the floor and he kicked them away. "You're my Venus," he said as he lifted her onto the counter next to the sink. "You always have been." All he wanted was to be inside her, to feel her hot, wet cunt wrapped tightly around his cock again. He shuddered at the memory of what she felt like as he spread her legs so he could feel her again.

* * *

Kathryn was screwing the bottom off her crucifix, preparing to take a hit of cocaine. They were sitting in the upstairs livingroom fully dressed - which was a rarity for them these days. They were talking about the new play that she wanted to go see. Before he knew that he was going to do it, Sebastian put his hand over hers. "Don't."

She glared up at him. "Just because we're fucking now doesn't mean you get to tell me what to do," her voice was hard, like steel.

"I'm not telling you. I'm asking."

"That didn't sound like asking to me. It sounded like you doing the guy thing and trying to act like lord and master."

He wanted to scream in frustration. How the hell did she always end up making him want to break her neck? He was worried about what she was doing to herself, and she's accusing him of being a chauvinist. This is why they always got into screaming fights. "Okay. Will you please lay off that shit?"

She had been taking much less in the few days since they'd started screwing each other's brains out on or against every flat surface in the house that they could find, but she hadn't completely stopped. She was searching his eyes as if to figure out his angle. "Why?"

"Because it's not good for you. You know that. I'll help you. I read about this outpatient clinic –"

"I can stop whenever I want," she snapped. "I don't need help."

"Prove it," he challenged. He knew that the one thing that Kathryn Merteuil could never pass up was a challenge.

"I don't need to prove anything to you."

"So you are just another drug addicted slut."

She slapped him so quickly he hadn't even seen it coming until it was too late. They sat glaring at each other for a few long seconds before she tried to hit him again, this time with her fists. He grabbed her wrists and forced her back on the couch, holding her down with is weight. He could see the tears in her eyes and knew that his words had hurt her. He hadn't meant to hurt her… it just made him so damn angry to see her putting that poison in her body. "Get the fuck off me!"

"No."

"Let me go now, you son of a bitch!"

"You're better than this," he said quietly as he looked down at her. She stopped struggling and blinked up at him, but said nothing.

"You're fucking better than this shit, Kathryn," he said with more conviction as he snatched the crucifix from her hand and held it over her face. "It makes you so much less then what you are. Don't let it own you. Nothing should ever own you. Not me, and for damn sure not this."

He let her push him away and sit up. He watched her warily as she stared at the crucifix in his hand, just in case she started swinging again. "It makes me less afraid," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly.

He blinked at her. He hadn't expected her to be honest. Kathryn never admitted weakness. "What are you afraid of?"

She looked away and for a moment, he thought she wouldn't answer. "Failing."

He knew that was only the beginning of truth – it was just the only part she could actually admit to herself. He knew that she was really afraid of being abandoned, the way her father had abandoned her when he left, the way her mother abandoned her when she withheld her affection. If she failed, if she appeared to be anything less than perfect, she was afraid that everyone else would abandon her too. After all, if her own parents didn't really give a fuck, why would anyone else? That's why she obsessed over her image, did anything to build it and protect it. He also knew that somewhere in the back of her mind she still had the hope that if she did a good enough job, if she were perfect enough, if she kept her grades high enough, if she were loved enough, one day that cruel, self-involved bitch, Tiffany Mertueil Valmont would finally love her too.

Suddenly he felt like the biggest bastard on the planet. He knew that about her, and what was he planning on doing with that knowledge? Completely destroy her. That's what he had set out to do because she hadn't loved him the way he wanted her to, she had refused to give herself to him. He had long since come to accept that the accident wasn't really anybody's fault. Nobody could have foreseen that chain of events. Besides, wouldn't he have struck out at her if she had been the one who fell in love with someone else? Wouldn't he have tried to destroy them both? He took her hand in his and kissed it, feeling tears in stinging his own eyes.

"I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere. No matter what," he said softly, and it was the first time in a long time that he completely meant it.

She gave him a small sad smile when she saw the tears in his eyes. "You're such a fucking pussy, Valmont."

* * *

Sebastian awoke to screams. He sat up in alarm, his heart pounding in his throat. Kathryn was laying next to him, screaming his name, sounding…it was hard to put a name to how she sounded. He just knew that it scared the hell out of him. He grabbed her, tried to wake her. "Baby, it's okay. I'm right here."

She finally looked up at him, realizing that it had just been a dream, tears streaming down her face, breathing hard. "I dreamed you were dead," she sobbed, throwing her arms around him. "I dreamed you didn't survive the accident. It was all my fault. You were so cold. And they buried you. I begged them not to, but they did it anyway."

She was almost hysterical, and he could feel her trembling in his arms as she wept. She was holding him so tightly that he could barely breathe. He knew that nightmares were a symptom of her withdrawal from the coke, but she'd had so few of the other symptoms that he had hoped that she would be spared more. "I'm fine. I'm right here. I'm not dead."

Finally, she calmed down and was more or less herself again. She kept touching him, as if to reassure herself that he was really there, still alive and warm.

"Kathryn?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why didn't you want them to bury me?"

She stiffened for an instant, and then relaxed again. "I didn't want the worms to have you."

He shivered at the thought. "Well, I'd have to agree with you on that." He had come so close to dying. He didn't think about how close he came, he didn't like to think about it. It had never occurred to him how his death would have effected Kathryn. He would have been gone from her life forever. He would have died for another woman and she would have been left thinking that he didn't love her, didn't want her anymore.

"I'm putting you in a crypt," she said, matter-of-factly, almost conversationally.

"What?"

"If you die first, I'm putting you in a crypt. Surrounded by lots of concrete and marble. Maybe I'll have a mausoleum built. But you can't die until I'm at least 90."

He laughed. "Okay… then you have to promise live at least that long. I'm hopeless without you. You can't ever leave me." She was quiet for a while and he thought she had begun to fall asleep.

"Sebastian?"

"Yes?"

"You know that l sometimes… that I can't always show that I care, right?"

She sounded almost like a little girl and he smiled. He kissed her eye and than her lips. "I know. It's okay."

Soon, he heard her breathing become even. She was asleep. He listened to her breathing until sleep finally closed his eyes.

_

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_

Thanks for the great reviews fab84, Kaila (the question with these two is always who they're lying to most - each other or themselves), and DSMelody! I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.


	10. Distracted

**Chapter 10  
Distracted**

Kathryn was trying to finish her calculus homework and resisting the urge to take another hit. She was antsy. Sebastian had disappeared again. She wondered where he went, and suspected that he had begun work on his to-do list again – his list of virgins in the school categorized by level of difficultly he expected to have in bedding them and, of course, attractiveness. Kathryn had never believed in things like commitment or love. Those things were like dirty words to her. So why did the thought of him screwing some stupid little slut bother her so much?

Fucking Sebastian had done exactly what she had always suspected it would do. It threw her into an emotional tailspin and she sometimes had difficulty telling which way was up. That's why she had never wanted emotions involved. They were what had caused the downfall of so many powerful people. Things were always so much easier, so much cleaner, without them. Unlike Sebastian, she had even tried to avoid lust. She never fucked a man because she wanted him… it was always as a means to an end. But she had finally made the fatal mistake of fucking someone she was attached to, Sebastian of all people. Although he had shown no signs of becoming bored with her yet, she knew better than anyone just how quickly he lost interest. She had walked right into it with her eyes wide open, spreading her legs like some stupid infatuated girl.

She heard the sound of his shoes on the polished floor but refused to look up. She could almost see him in her mind's eye though. The deliberate, cocky stride. Sunglasses hiding his beautiful blue eyes. Crisp shirt, pants with a razor sharp crease, looking like he'd just stepped off the cover of GQ. She could feel his warm breath on her neck as he leaned over and kissed her neck. Just like that she was aching for him again. She cursed him silently.

"I'm trying to finish my calculus," she said irritably.

"So I see," he said as he ran a forefinger down the empty page of her notebook. "But don't you think you ought to actually start first?" His other hand moved to her breast and squeezed it through her shirt.

"Smart ass." She pushed his hand away.

He laughed. "I thought you were good at calculus."

"I am. I'm just… distracted."

He kissed her neck again, in the spot he knew always made her laugh. "Does that help?"

"No," she said as she tried not to give in, stifling her laugh and pushing his head away. She could smell his clean, crisp cologne, but no trace of another woman's scent. She felt relief, and hated herself for it.

"I have a surprise for you… princess."

She rolled her eyes, knowing that he was teasing her. "You know I hate surprises."

"Right. That's why you pout every year until I give you your Christmas present early. Or why you wouldn't speak to me for three hours when I pretended that I hadn't gotten you anything for your birthday."

She smiled to herself as she remembered finding the emerald solitaire on a platnum chain that he had put in her dressing table drawer a few hours after that god-awful party her mother threw a month before. She finally gave in and turned to face him. "Why?"

"You ask that a lot lately. I don't know why. Maybe because you're spoiled rotten in addition to being an evil bitch."

"No, moron. Why are you giving me a present out of the blue? It's not like we're in a relationship." She said the word like it put a bad taste in her mouth.

A shadow passed over his face, something that looked like pain and anger. But it was gone almost before she recognized it and in its place was an impassive mask. "No. I suppose not."

He straightened and went out to her balcony, leaving her sitting there feeling guilty. Why the hell should she feel guilty? She tried to go back to her work, but she just sat there staring at an empty page. Guilt was an uncomfortable and unwelcome addition to her already crowded emotional state. She didn't want to be the first to relent. After staring at the French doors to the balcony for a few minutes, she finally got up and went to him. She never could stand it when Sebastian was angry with her. She teased him mercilessly, and provoked him constantly – but she hated it when he was really angry.

She found him smoking. "You still have a scar."

He smirked and touched his forehead. "Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I don't think that one's going away."

"It might. It hasn't been a year yet since…" She let her voice trail off. It was a reminder that he'd almost died, that he'd left her for someone else once already.

"Well, I think it gives me character." He smiled at her, but his eyes were guarded.

She touched his arm and his mask faltered for an instant. She realized he was protecting himself… from her. She smiled, relieved that she wasn't the only one feeling vulnerable.

He looked at her suspiciously. "What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing. I'm just…" She managed to stop herself before the word 'happy' spilled out of her mouth. She was happy, because she smelled his vulnerability to her the way a shark smelled fresh blood. That put them on equal footing. "… wondering what you got me." She put her hands lightly on his sides.

"I thought you didn't like surprises."

She put her hands in his pockets and found his cock. He gasped softly as she stroked it through his pocket, feeling it stiffen, and her smile widened into a grin. "Is this my present?"

"That's been yours for almost four years, baby."

She unzipped his pants, reached in and began stroking him in earnest. He closed his eyes and she leaned against him so that the sides of their faces were touching. "Please, Sebastian," she said softly before teasing his earlobe with her tongue.

"You are so wicked," he said as he produced two keys from his pocket on a keychain with a little fob that said Queen Bitch.

"Keys?"

"Car keys."

"You bought me a car?"

"Look down there," he said nodding towards the drive. She looked down at a '56 XK140 Jaguar Roadster, identical to his. Except it was pearl white.

"Oh my god! Sebastian!" She wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you!"

"You really want to thank me?"

* * *

"Fuck," he panted, staring up at the ceiling. "Maybe I should buy you a car more often."

"Let's go for a ride." She looked up at him from where her head was resting on his stomach. They were both more or less still fully dressed.

"I honestly don't think I can make it downstairs right now. I may also be going blind."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me I've actually worn you out? Maybe your reputation isn't all it's cracked up to be."

He scowled at her. "There's no need to be insulting. Besides," he said, suddenly smiling as he stroked her hair, "my current state of debilitation is far more owing to your considerable talents then to any deficiency in my libido. Don't you want to go for a ride up here first? A little quid pro quo?"

She smiled and crawled up to whisper in his ear. "I want you to fuck me in my new car. Now."

He smiled down at her. "Why didn't you say that in the first place? I think I'm getting a second wind. Just let me make you cum once first."

They had been having sex for what seemed like hours before Sebastian finally let her cum. She lay limply on the bed, drenched in sweat, out of breath and trying to string together a coherent thought. He had kept bringing her right to the edge and then backing off. Over and over, until finally her body just refused to stop. He hadn't even been touching her. He lay next to her watching as she thrashed and screamed, clawing at the sheets like a woman possessed.

Now he moved her hair out of her face gently. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Don't tell me I've actually worn you out," he said with a little cocky smile. She would have hit him if she had the strength.

"Bastard."

He laughed as he got off the bed. He returned with a glass of water. "Drink this."

"Water?"

"Just drink it, you fucking lush. I don't want you passing out from dehydration."

It took her a second to get her trembling muscles to cooperate as she tried to sit up. She was so damn thirsty. "You evil fuck," she said as she took the water.

"You enjoyed it."

"I'm too tired to drive now," she pouted. She didn't want to admit that she had enjoyed it. But it wasn't something she wanted him to do too often… she might not survive.

"That's okay. You can drive us to school tomorrow."

"Who said that I'm letting you come with me?"

"Because," he said as he kissed her, "you want to christen your new car."

"It's beautiful."

"I had a feeling you'd like it." There was something about his tone… then she remembered the bet. If he couldn't bed Annette, she got his car. If he could, he got her. Anyway he wanted her.

"Like I wanted your fucking car," she said. Her eyes went wide when she realized that she'd said it out loud. Damn it! What was wrong with her? It was bad enough when she was making all sorts of admissions while she was withdrawing, but what was her excuse now? She saw his eyes narrow and she knew he caught it. Of course he caught it. Sebastian never missed much. That's what had always made him such a good partner for playing games.

"You knew I wouldn't lose. You didn't want me to lose. You wanted to fuck me, didn't you?"

"I never said that."

"But you didn't want my car! All you had to do was stop pushing me away. Everything that happened last summer would have been avoided."

"Are you out of your fucking mind? So you're saying that if I had fucked you, you never would have fallen in love with Our Lady of the Immaculate Cunt?"

That seemed to give him pause. "I don't know. But I wanted you more. I still want you more. Do you really think that the only reason I broke up with her when you goaded me into it was because of my fucking reputation?"

"If you're expecting me to buy the theory that it was because you just couldn't stand to disappoint me, or that you wanted me that badly, please save your fucking breath, asshole. I offered myself to you on a silver platter like some stupid slut twice before that! You laughed in my fucking face!"

"I thought you were teasing me again! Like you always did!"

She laughed. It wasn't amused, or mocking. It was bitter. She would have rather been a 'prize' then another one of his conquests. If he had taken her as 'winnings,' then it didn't have to be about what she wanted. She could pretend that she didn't care. She could have him in her bed and never have to admit that she wanted him there. That way, when he was bored and he left, he would never know it would hurt her. At least she would have been spared the shame of having him know how she felt. Fucked up logic, yes, but she had thought it would give her some form of protection. Then later, when she felt him slipping away, she would have done anything to keep him. "What the fuck do you want from me, Sebastian?"

He blinked at her, the question obviously taking him by surprise. "I've made no secret of what I want. I think the better question is what do you want?"

"Right now? A bath."

* * *

Sabastian was sitting in the side of the tub, still naked, refusing to go away until she talked to him. As she sat in the tub watching him watch her, she thought about how he occassionally called her Venus.

"You're Cupid," she said finally.

"Pardon?"

"You're Cupid, the mischievous winged god of desire."

He smiled slightly. "Then that would make you my mother. Somehow I think even the Romans would frown upon a god fucking his mother. Why not Adonis?"

"Was Annette your Psyche?"

"Why the fuck are we still talking about Annette?" He sounded annoyed, which is what she was going for.

"Because she changed you. She changed everything. Which is why Cupid fits better. A god falling helplessly in love with a mortal and defying Venus to be with her. Nothing was ever the same on Olympus." She hated Annette. She wanted to destroy her, slowly and painfully, but she would wait. Wait until the stupid bitch forgot, then she would make her wish she'd never been born, never tried to steal what was hers.

"Why are you trying to make me angry with you?"

She turned from the intensity of his gaze, but still felt it burning her skin. She hated how he could see through her sometimes. "Why would I want to make you angry? Do you really think your feelings matter that much to me?"

"I don't even know why the fuck I even try with you." He got up and left.

She should have felt relieved, but she didn't. When she finally got out of the tub and found her bedroom empty. The keys he'd given her sat on the nightstand. Her bed was still damp, and still smelled of him. She sat on her couch, staring at the bed and missing him already.

Finally she gathered her courage and went across the hall. She found him laying on his bed wearing boxers and scribbling in his stupid journal. The journal that he'd let Annette see, but never her. He'd taken a shower and his hair was still damp. He looked up at her and scowled. "What the fuck do you want?"

She sat on the side of the bed. "My bed is still wet."

He smirked and went back to his journal. "Go to one of the guest rooms."

"You like being mean to me, don't you?"

"There are times, sis, when nothing gives me greater pleasure."

"Even fucking me?"

He paused. "Okay, almost nothing."

She played with the hair at back of his head. "Be a good girl," he said as he pushed her hand away, "and wait till I'm finished."

"Is it about me," she asked, referring to the journal.

"Of course. Everything's about you."

She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. "Why won't you let me read it?"

"Because you want to so badly."

"Bullshit. I think it's because you write things in there that you don't want me to know about."

He finally closed the journal and put it in his drawer. "You'll never know," he said as he turned over onto his back and looked up at her.

She straddled him, found him already hard. "You were writing about what you did to me earlier, weren't you? Do you always do that after you fuck me? Write about it in the little queer journal of yours?"

"We didn't fuck."

"Yet." She ground herself against him and he groaned.

"Don't you have calculus homework? You don't want to end up riding the short bus to school."

"Oh. You're right. Guess I'd better go get right on that." She started to get up, but he pulled her back down, his hands on her hips holding her firmly against his erection.

"What you're on right now is much more urgent."

"But my homework's due tomorrow."

"Copy it from one of your idiot groupies. Or better yet, don't go. We can start the weekend early and drive to the country in your new car."

"Tomorrow's Monday, bonehead."

"Yeah. You got a problem with a seven day weekend?"

"Tell me about Adonis."

"Why do you want to know?"

Because everything you say usually means something, she thought. There was a reason that he had metioned Adonis earlier, and it wasn't random. Sebastian was never random. "Just tell me." She had moved her nightgown out of the way and was grinding against him.

He sighed as if he were feeling put upon. "Aphrodite and Persephone were in love with him and quarreled over who would have him, and Zeus settled the arguement by forcing him to spend 1/3 of the year with Aphrodite and 1/3 with Persephone. The remaining time he could spend anywhere he chose."

"And where was that," she asked softly as she watched the expression on his face. His breath was quickening and she could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes fluttered closed. When they opened again, the look in his eyes made her ache. She wanted to be here, like this, forever.

"With Aphrodite. Every time. Because she was the one he always wanted."

"Aphrodite is Venus," she said with a little smile as she leaned closer to him.

"So she is," he answered with a little smile of his own as he put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss.

_

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Thanks for the reviews Natalia2, FemminaPerfetta & Kaila!

_-Angie_


	11. Choices

**Chapter 11  
Choices**

Sebastian was well aware that if he were the man he wanted Ann to believe he was that he would have felt some guilt, something beyond a vague sense of disloyalty about bouncing back and forth between her and Kathryn. The first time he was with Kathryn, he had fucked Ann just hours before. That's where he'd disappeared to before finding Kathryn kicking out a very persistent… what the fuck was stupid toy's name anyway? Did it matter? His philosophy, which he fully acknowledged was completed fucked to hell, was that what they didn't know wouldn't hurt anyone. Especially him.

But he couldn't keep juggling them forever. Ann would be heartbroken if she found out and Kathryn… well Kathryn would be heartbroken too. Right after she and ripped off his balls and mounted them to the wall. He smiled and looked fondly at his wicked stepsister where she slept beside him. Just because she had been more open with him lately didn't mean that she was some toy he could fuck over. She hadn't been declawed, and he dearly hoped that she never would be. He sighed, realizing that he had to make a decision today, and probably should have made it long ago, as he got up and headed for the shower.

The past three weeks had been incredible. He had never had a lover as skillful or as completely uninhibited as Kathryn. They had tried a lot of his fantasies so far and the reality had always been better then the fantasy. They behaved like two horny teenagers who never seemed to be able to get enough of each other, which he supposed was exactly what they were. They fucked in the middle of a fight, or to make up after one, or to celebrate a victory, or because they were carried away with the passion of an opera, or because the sky was blue, or because the stars were bright, or because it was raining – which interestingly enough always made Kathryn want to fuck anyway. And he never knew how it was going to be the next time – rough, gentle, playful, slow, fast, some amazing combination. He had never in his life wanted the same woman so often and so desperately before. Things had clearly gotten out of hand. He couldn't ignore the fact that this wasn't a game anymore. It was something far more dangerous now.

He had flowers sent to Ann yesterday. He knew he couldn't keep things going the way they were. It had been almost three weeks since he'd told her that he was going to end the game with Kathryn. As it turned out, he had done just that but not in the way he thought he would. He had meant it when he told Kathryn almost three weeks ago that he wasn't going anywhere. The trouble was, he had also meant it when he said it to Ann. What the fuck were the odds that someone like him would be in love with two women at the same time?

"Sebastian?" He looked over at his bed to see that Kathryn was awake and watching him as he finished dreased.

"Hey baby. I was trying not to wake you up."

"Where are you going?"

"I just have something to take care of. I won't be gone long."

"Good. Because I have a proposition for you." She sat up and let his sheet slid off her torso, giving him a lovely view of her breasts.

"Hmmm... sounds intriguing."

"I have a new game in mind. I need your help."

* * *

"It makes me feel dirty," Ann said as he leaned in for a hello kiss at the hotel.

The statement took him off guard and stopped him in his tracks. He had planned on talking to her today, trying to figure out what he was going to do but he hadn't expected that. "What does?"

"Sneaking around like this. I feel like I'm having an affair with a married man." She stood just inside the doorway. She looked up at him, her guileless blue eyes filled with a quiet conviction.

He looked at her, knowing something had changed with both of them and wondered if Bobby were still around. It surprised him that the idea no longer made him jealous. Did that mean he didn't love Ann? Or was it just that his feelings for Kathryn were even stronger than before, pulling him further and further away from her. The feelings he had for the two women were as different as the women themselves. What he felt for Kathryn was dark and bitter-sweet. Volatile and passionate almost to the point of violence. He wanted Kathryn, wanted every part of her and everything about her, with a ferocity that frightened him. There was tenderness there too. In the way they held each other at night, the way they fucked sometimes, the way he just wanted to protect her. To look at Kathryn, no one would ever guess that she needed protection. And she didn't, not from normal things. Hell, the normal people needed protection from her. He pitied anyone stupid enough to tried to take advantage of her. But ironically, she did need protection. From her parents and from herself.

But wanted to hold on to Ann, hold onto the kindness and stability she had brought to his life. She was honest without being trite or sentimental, and he didn't have to worry that she would decide seemingly out of the blue to provoke him. He felt like a man torn between two worlds. Two women. Venus and Diana. The first was deeply flawed, often cruel, occassionally capricious and always dangerous. The second was honest, compassionate, kind and giving. They were as different as any two women could ever be but they both had two similarities that were most attractive to him – they both had iron in them and were both, in their own way, untamable. With Kathryn it was obvious, but with Ann… there was just something at the core of who she was that couldn't be touched. That's why no matter how much her association with him should have tainted her she still seemed so… pure. Ann just didn't know her strength yet. But maybe she was beginning to find it, he thought as he looked into her eyes. "I don't deserve you."

She looked taken aback. "I'm not perfect, Sebastian."

"No. But you're a hell of a lot closer to it than I'll ever be. I can't keep trying to change for you. And you can't keep trying to change for me."

She sat next to him and put her hand on his. He pulled away. "I'm still the guy who wanted to seduce you because you were a challenge and he was bored. I haven't changed. I wanted to, you made me want to. To be better. And I tried, I tried so hard. I turned myself into a fucking pretzel for you. I lied to myself and pretended that I had, that somehow I was behaving differently even though I was doing the same things I always do. I tried to tell myself that I was better than Kathryn. But I'm not. I'm just like her."

He felt her fingers in his hair and he closed his eyes, remembering when Kathryn had done the same thing. He didn't want to hurt either of them. He wanted them both. But he knew he couldn't have them both. He had to choose. "I think you should get as far away from me as you can," he heard himself say as if his tongue had a mind of its own and was trying to make his choice for him.

"Is it Kathryn?" She didn't sound shocked, or even upset. He looked her in the eye and realized that this had probably been coming all along. And that she knew it.

"No. It's me. It's a choice between who I thought I could become and who I really am.

I never intended to hurt you, Ann."

She smiled sadly. "Yeah, well, you know what they say about the road to hell."

He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Although I'm sure that's where I'm going, I kind of doubt any of my good intentions will have much to do with it."

She paused for a moment. "I'm going to Johns Hopkins. I'm leaving right after graduation. I already enrolled for summer classes."

"You were going to leave me anyway, weren't you?" The question was rhetorical. The answer was obvious. He was suddenly seeing more clearly then he had in a long time.

"Yes. That's the only reason I came. I wanted to tell you face to face."

He smiled. "Good for you."

"I've decided to go to the mission in South America once I finish medical school. It's what I always wanted to do and they need at least one other doctor. They've been making do with just one and a handful of nurses for since they opened the clinic."

"Are you going back to Bobby?"

"No. I'm going back to me. Just like you are. God help us all," she added dryly.

He laughed. "This world doesn't deserve you."

She laughed as she wiped away fresh tears. "Will you stop talking about me like I'm some kind of a saint or something?"

"Not a saint. A goddess. Diana."

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You're so full of it Sebastian." She got up and went to the door. She stopped before opening it and turned to face him one last time. "Don't sabotage things with Kathryn, Sebastian. I think she loves you as much as you love her. Maybe the two of you can build something good together if you stop shooting yourselves in the foot."

Then she was gone. Sebastian felt like he had lost something precious, some small piece of himself. He was tempted to follow her, beg her to run away with him. But that would mean leaving Kathryn behind, and he knew that was the one thing he could never do.

* * *

He was sitting in his Jag, in the garage. He didn't feel like going into the house. Kathryn was likely home and he wasn't up to facing her yet. He knew that she would be able to instantly tell that something was wrong and he couldn't tell her what it was. Not unless he had a death wish.

He heard her enter the garage quietly. The passenger side door opened and she sat down beside him. Her perfume surrounded him and he felt her hand on his. He turned his hand over and their finger's intertwined. How often had they just sat together quietly over the years, holding hands, not saying a word? She always knew when he wanted to talk, and when he didn't. She knew him so completely that it sometimes shocked him that he was able to seduce her at all. It probably helped that she had wanted him to. "I'm not a decent person," he said softly, remembering what Tuttle had said. It was as close to an apology for what he'd planned to do to her as he dared come. Making her suspicious wouldn't be a wise thing to do.

"Decent people are sheep," she said, her voice soft but with a sharp edge to it. "Toys. Who wants to be a decent person when you can be a god?"

"Being a god is damn lonely."

She climbed onto his lap and held him. "You have me."

"I know."

"What naughty thing have you done now?"

"Just the usual. Leaving a trail of broken hearts in my wake."

"Don't tell me your conscience is starting to bother you again. That could be dangerous. We'll have to nip that in the bud."

* * *

"It's not like we're breaking any laws!" Sebastian realized that he was screaming, but he didn't care. He was so frustrated that screaming felt good.

"It doesn't matter," Kathryn said. "People will think it's sick, that we're sick."

"Fuck your image!"

"Sebastian, we're stepsiblings."

"Really? I hadn't realized! That must be why your frigid bitch of a mother gets so pissed off whenever my father brakes in a new secretary!"

"Stop screaming."

He took a deep breath before launching right back into his tirade at a tone of voice only slightly quieter then a scream. "I didn't even fucking know you until I was fourteen. We didn't grow up together, we don't share any genes. Your mother didn't adopt me, my father didn't adopt you. There's nothing standing in our way except a few holier than thou idiots. That's even less than nothing."

"Our parents would likely kill us."

"I don't give a flying fuck at a rolling donut what our parents think. We're eighteen and it's not like our so called parents have ever actually been useful for anything other than a constant source of cash, and we have trust funds for that. The only people we ever had in our corner has been each other and Tuttle." It was true. They had grown up too fast, seen too much too soon and had been, for better or worse, more like adults then children for a long time now. By the time they were sixteen, there wasn't much that their parents could teach them that they hadn't already taught themselves.

"Why is this so damn important to you?"

He looked at her in disbelief for a moment. "Why? Because I want to take you to the prom. I never even wanted to go the fucking thing before, but I want to take you and make every guy there turn green because you're mine. I want to kiss you, I want to touch you. I don't want to worry about who can see us or if anyone can tell that sometimes when I look at you, all I can think about is being inside you."

She was silent for a moment. Since she had stopped taking cocaine, she had become almost preternaturally calm. It unnerved Sebastian sometimes. At first she had been edgy and almost suicidal. But that had passed and now she was… placid. He kind of missed making her fly off the handle every once in awhile. But she never did anymore. It had actually made her more lethal, which he had to admit he kind of liked. The fact that she was definitely not to be fucked with had always turned him on.

"I'll think about it," she finally said, but he felt as if she were only saying that to get him to table the argument. They didn't do much arguing anymore, he noticed. They still sniped at each other, and called each other horrible names when the mood struck them – that was like foreplay for them and would probably go on forever – but they never really argued.

"No you won't, you lying whore."

"Stop being such a cock sucking mama's boy and maybe I will, you little fag." She had that smile, that sexy teasing smile, dancing at the corners of her mouth again.

"Fucking cunt," he said as he tugged on her shirt, sending the top button flying.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Will you stop ripping my damn clothes, asshole?"

He simply smiled and pulled hard, sending the rest of her buttons flying.

* * *

In the end it hadn't been up to them to go public. Someone had captured one of their more intimate moments on film and published the pictures in a tabloid. Sebastian realized that someone had been in the building across the street with a telescopic lens. They had been in Kathryn's room, with the curtains open. Doing some very naughty things.

Kathryn was studying the pictures quietly, her lips pressed so tightly together that they were colorless. He could feel the anger radiating from her.

"I'll take care of whoever did this," he said finally.

"No. We both will. It's been a long time since we destroyed someone together. I think this son of a bitch has earned it. We can discuss the details later. Right now, I have damage control to do."

Handling the person who did this together was fine with Sebastian. He wanted who ever had done this completely annihilated. He had been in tabloids before. He was too wealthy, his family too prestigious, and his lifestyle too scandalous for him not to have. But Kathryn was another matter. They had made her look like just another slut he had picked up. To him that was unforgivable. Well, whoever it was had just fucked with the wrong two 'teenagers.'

She hadn't told him what her damage control was going to be, and he hadn't asked. He'd found out from the grapevine. She'd gone to one of the guidance councilors, Ms. Perkins, and told her some sob story about how much in love she was with Sebastian, but she was afraid to act on it because no one would understand them. They hadn't been related for long, just three short years. Nobody could expect her to really feel like a sister to him after just meeting him, could they? They couldn't expect her to be immune to his charms, or ignorant of his beauty. Maybe there was something wrong with her that she couldn't help her feelings for him. They had both tried to fight it as best they could, but in a moment of weakness, they had given in to their feelings. Now someone had 'outed' them, making their pure love look like something ugly and disgusting. Ms. Perkins was a lesbian and immediately sympathized. He could almost see the tears, the dreamy doe eyes that she had effected to pull it off, showing just the right balance of pain and fear and the breathless excitement of true love. What would their parents do when they found out? Would they be forced to separate now that they were finally brave enough to be together? Poor Ms. Perkins didn't know what hit her.

Before he knew it, they were a couple, practically honorary members of Manchester Prep's GLBT community and considered a modern day Romeo and Juliet by everyone else. Kathryn had managed to elevate her status even more and take him right along with her – something that he never dreamed was even possible. Everyone seemed to be suddenly convinced that his bad ways had been caused by his unrequited love for her. He must have tried to lose himself in alcohol and sex because he didn't know how to handle not having the one he really loved. Never mind that his reputation had started when he was thirteen, two whole years before he even met Kathryn. Suddenly it was all white washed. All thanks to that magnificently twisted, darkly brilliant, and coldly manipulative bitch he was in love with. He laughed when he considered what everyone would think if they knew that's how he thought of her and that, far from being derogatory, it was actually why he loved her.

Sebastian found her in the cafeteria surrounded by her little flunkies. He smirked and headed directly for her. He sat next to her, his back against the table so that he was facing her. Almost everyone was staring at them with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity. She dismissed the giggling girls at the table.

When they were alone, he whispered in her ear, "you're fucking diabolical, you know that? You're the spawn of Satan."

"Takes one to know one."

"You've co-opted an entire movement that has nothing to do with you just to save your precious image. Tuttle would be ashamed of you."

"Tuttle coached me for over an hour," she said with a little satisfied smile. "Just the right turn of phrase to use, the perfect instant to cry."

"He didn't."

She shrugged. "Ask him."

"You're an amazing bitch, Kathryn Merteuil," he said. It was at times like this that he knew that he had done the right thing, the only thing, in choosing Kathryn. What was it about her that made her so sexy when she was being so insidiously manipulative? He liked the way she was looking at him, even though he knew it was for public consumption. She had to play the love struck teenager.

"I know. I've always tried to tell you, every problem is just another opportunity. Like you said, we're not breaking any laws." She touched his hand tentatively. He would have laughed at her playacting, if he weren't so damn turned on. "Why shouldn't we be able to kiss in public if we want?"

He put a finger to his pursed lips and pretended to give it some thought. "Hmmm… I can't think of a single reason." He leaned over and kissed her. It wasn't the kind of blistering melt-the-paint-off-the-walls kisses that he usually gave her in private, but it was sexy enough to inspire more than a few sighs and dreamy stares from their attentive audience. It helped that they looked so damn good together, if he did say so himself.

* * *

"Did you find out who it was," Kathryn, true to form, got right to the point.

Sebastian, Kathryn and Tuttle were all sitting around a table next to Tuttle's pool after school. Tuttle's latest piece of ass was sitting nearby, sunning himself.

Tuttle slid a folder across the table towards them. "It was a friend of one of your neighbors. Apparently he's been getting quit the show watching the two of you from his apartment window and decided to cash in. Called his friend and… well, we all know the rest." A slow smile spread across his face. "What are you planning on doing to him? You know I'll help in any way that I can."

"We haven't decided yet what we're going to do to him," Kathryn said as she began to look through the file. "But it will be something fittingly nasty."

"Not nasty, baby," Sebastian corrected. "Vicious. And I'm sure we can find a role for you, Tuttle."

* * *

Sebastian stumbled out of his room holding a camera and smelling of Champaign. He was shirtless, but otherwise dressed, when he came across his wicked stepsister pacing in the hall. "Baby," he said with a smile. "What are you doing out here?"

"How's it going?"

"According to plan. Doesn't it always?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"What's the matter? Afraid I'll fall in love again?"

Her eyes froze over, like ice. "Constantly reminding me of your last transgression may not be the best move, Valmont."

"Baby, you're the only one that I want spread out on my bed. I can't wait till I'm finished with her, so I can spend some quality time inside my favorite girl."

She rolled her eyes, but he could tell that the idea was appealing to her. "How much longer?"

"Two more rolls. Maybe three at the most, and well have several that are good enough."

"You're so picky."

_

* * *

_

Thanks for the great reviews, DSMelody, fab84 and Kaila! I hope you like this new chapter.


	12. Consequences

**Chapter 12  
Consequences**

Sebastian had followed Kathryn into the kitchen. She wanted a midnight snack, and so did he. Only he didn't have the same type of snack in mind that she did.

"We just fucked twice," she giggled, pushing him away, vaguely aware that she was actually giggling. He refused to be deflected, touching her almost constantly as she tried to raid the refrigerator, and she couldn't help liking it.

"I can't get enough of you, you know that," he murmered as he nuzzled her neck.

"How can you just keep going?"

"I'm a very healthy eighteen year old male. Sexual peak combined with years of building my stamina. You really should enjoy it while it lasts. Before you know it, I'll be balding, fat and popping Viagra."

"You're going to make me sore."

"Then we can try something different. You owe me one free pass to stick it anywhere I want."

"Oh, how could I forget that," she said dryly, knowing exactly where he had in mind. "Tomorrow, okay. We need lubricant."

"I have some upstairs."

She rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised? What kind of brother wants to bugger his own sister?"

He kissed her and ran his fingers along her sides. "You'll enjoy it."

"Doubtful."

"Haven't you enjoyed everything else? Even the things you never thought you would?"

"Maybe," she said begrudgingly, not willing to admit that she had.

"Maybe," he said incredulously as he began tickling her. "Maybe?"

After a few seconds of trying in vain to push him away and laughing helplessly, she gave up. "Okay, okay… I give." He stopped and she panted, trying to catch her breath. "I enjoy everything you do to me."

"Then trust me."

With a shock, she realized that she did, completely. Kathryn Merteuil, for the first time since she was six, trusted someone. She caressed the sides of his face and smiled up at him, trying to figure out how she had ended up here. Did it really matter? She was happy. It was a new feeling, and something she never wanted to lose. No matter what she had to do to keep it.

"Tomorrow," she said as she pulled him into a kiss. He pushed her against the refrigerator and she shuddered as her back pressed against the cold metal. Before she knew it he was inside of her. She wrapped her legs around him and he held onto her hips.

"You feel so good," she said, looking into his eyes.

"You feel like home," he said. She smiled at him. She was never quite sure when he was bullshitting her. There was a reason that he generally got any woman he wanted into bed. Sebastian had always had a way with words, and his soulful, expressive eyes could mimic any emotion he wanted them too. She had suggested that he try his hand at writing. He seemed surprised by the idea at first, but she had convinced him to take a creative writing class in the fall.

He fucked her slowly at first, all the way in and then all the way out, and speed up gradually, but not too much. That was fine with her. She wanted it to last as long as possible. His eyes never left hers, as if he were trying to see inside of her, and he kissed her softly on the lips every once in a while. Kathryn suddenly realized that this must be what people meant when they used the term 'make love.'

Finally, she came, letting her head fall back against the refrigerator at her back as she called out his name. Then it snapped forward as her brain registered what she had glimpsed in the doorway. Her mother was standing there watching, an expression of absolute revulsion on her face. She felt Sebastian cum. He groaned and tightened his grip on her hips as he shoved his cock deep inside of her. To her horror, she gasped and closed her eyes at the sensation of being filled with him.

"God, I can't get enough of you," he murmured against her shoulder, and she wondered if her mother heard him. He looked at her, with that smile he sometimes got on his face after fucking her. The happy, almost goofy one that she teased him about. It wasn't there long. "Shit," he said softly, and she knew he realized who she was looking at because only one person on the planet could put that expression on her face.

He turned his head to look at his stepmother. "Hey, Tiffany. Back so soon? Do you think you could possibly give us a chance to put something on before you start yelling?"

Tiffany was soon joined by Edward, who, after getting over the initial shock of seeing his son and stepdaughter naked in the kitchen, obviously in the act, immediately began cursing at his son in French.

For her part, Kathryn just wanted to die right then and there. She wanted the floor to open up and just fucking swallow her. Everything in her life from her bulimia to her perfect Marsha Brady image had all been for Tiffany, all to somehow find a way to finally make her proud. That had just all been shot to hell in an instant. What kind of fool was she to think that she and Sebastian could be together, out in the open?

"Well, this is a little awkward," Sebastian muttered to Kathryn before turning his head again to look at their parents. "Do the two of you mind if we put on some fucking clothes?!" Their parents were silent for a second that seemed to stretch into an eternity and then left, moving in the direction of the downstairs parlor. And probably straight for the bar.

* * *

Kathryn and Sebastian, now fully dressed, sat on one side of the dining room table while their parents sat on the other. Tiffany looked like she was going to explode, while her stepson looked bored. Edward seemed to have mellowed a bit and sat expressionless. Kathryn wondered if it was Vodka or Gin that had calmed him down as she tried to still her fidgeting under her mother's angry stare. They had to cut their vacation short because of a tsunami. What a tragedy. How dare all those people drown and lose their homes. Didn't they realize what an inconvenience that was? They'd been deciding if they wanted to go somewhere else when they heard about the tabloid story and someone faxed them the pictures.

"I took care of it," Kathryn said weakly, trying to draw every bit of strength she could from Sebastian's presence. She knew that he wasn't putting on an act this time. He really didn't care what they thought, and saw all the histrionics as a huge waste of time and energy. That made her feel a little better, but being around her mother was hard even when she hadn't done anything to anger her. This was probably the angriest she'd ever made Tiffany. Except for the time she knocked over an antique vase when she was ten. Tiffany had slapped her and sent her to bed with no dinner. 'You can stand to miss a meal, you ungrateful brat,' she'd said. She hadn't cried then. She had long since stopped crying.

Tiffany was naturally thin – or perhaps the better phrase was unnaturally thin. She could eat an entire cow and not gain a fucking pound. She was beautiful too. Much more beautiful then Kathryn, with long blond hair, clear gray eyes and porcelain skin. She tried to blink away her tears as she stared at the carpet. How did her mother always manage to make her feel like less than nothing? Like a piece of shit she'd stepped in and couldn't wait to get rid of.

"You took care of it? Just how did you do that, you incestuous little slut?" Her mother's voice was cold as ice and seemed to cut right through her.

Kathryn winced. "I'm not… It's not incest." She wanted to tell her mother she wasn't a slut, but she couldn't. She felt a tear slide down her face, followed by another and another. She cursed herself for her weakness. Maybe she hadn't slept around the way Sebastian had, but she had never been above using her body to get what she wanted and she'd had her fair share of lovers. She had learned how to seduce men and even a lot of women into doing whatever she asked, most of the time without ever sleeping with them. She had even managed to keep Sebastian on a leash for over three years. If that didn't make her a slut, what was she? She felt Sebastian's hand on hers and she pulled away from him, feeling dirty under her mother's intense gaze. She wanted nothing more than to run to the safety of her room, make herself throw up and bury herself under the covers. She just wanted to be numb. There were no drugs left in the house, and she wondered if she could get Blaine to bring her some, or if she should just take the car to his house. Even having a toy handy, someone to fuck her, anyone but Sebastian. That made her numb too, which was preferable to coming in certain situations. She didn't even want Sebastian to look at her.

"Look at you," Tiffany sneered. "A sniveling mess. What the fuck could you possibly 'take care of?' You've completely lost all sense of propriety, of decency. You've even gotten fatter. I haven't seen you so weak since your bastard of a father left. It didn't help to fall apart then, and it won't help now."

"I'm sorry," Kathryn muttered, hating herself for sounding like a scolded child. She had gained a little weight when she was getting off the coke – she had munchies constantly when she was withdrawing – and Sebastian had casually said one day that he liked her better with the extra weight. So she hadn't tried to lose it, wanting to please him more then she wanted to get into a size 0. Size 2 wasn't so bad, she told herself. But now she suddenly felt as big as a house.

"You're such a fucking bitch." It was Sebastian, using the same cold tone of voice that he'd used with Kathryn in the hospital when he remembered what had happened between them. The memory made her tremble as she looked over to see him staring daggers at her mother. He wasn't yelling, like he did when they argued. He was utterly calm, the kind of calm that was far more upsetting then yelling. The way he got when he was really pissed. "How dare you call her a slut? You don't even know who the hell she is! She's perfect. And if you can't see that," he sneered, his eyes piercing her, "then you've got to be the stupidest cunt I've ever met."

Edward sat listening quietly. After his initial outburst, he hadn't said much up to this point, but suddenly felt compelled to defend his wife. "That's enough, Sebastian!"

"No, it's not. It's nowhere near enough. This fucking harpy you married has been torturing Kathryn ever since I met them. I'm fed up. So if you're not going to put a stop to it, I am."

Tiffany had gotten over the shock of being called a cunt and was on her feet. "She's my daughter and I'll speak to her any way I see fit!"

"She's the woman I love, and you won't!" Kathryn jerked at the word love, but thankfully no one was paying any attention to her at the moment. He loved her? He looked a little shocked that he'd said it for a split second, but he recovered quickly and kept going, his anger overriding his pride. "I've never hit a woman in my life, but if you speak to her like that again, I swear I will fucking belt you, bitch!"

Kathryn felt him trembling with anger. She knew he meant every word he'd just said. Sebastian had always had a temper, and he occasionally did and said things that were especially vicious without a thought to the consequences when he was sufficiently pissed off. She chanced a glance at her mother. Tiffany looked mortified. Kathryn had never seen her that angry. Edward, however, had a small smile playing on his lips.

"Are you going to let your brat speak to me that why?" She glared at Edward. If looks could kill, he would have been a smoldering corps on the floor.

"Calm down darling," his French accent so soft you would never notice it unless you were paying attention. "Nothing will come of threatening the children. They are quite obviously determined."

"But our reputation!" If she hadn't already been reduced to tears, the look of utter horror on her face would have made Kathryn laugh. She wondered if that's how she looked to Sebastian when she whined about her image. If it was, no wonder he saw it as a big joke.

Edward rolled his eyes, looking for all the world like an older version of Sebastian in that moment. "Our reputation! There was a time when they used to be worth something. That time is long gone."

She stood up, gave everyone in the room one final glare and stormed off.

Sebastian spoke first. "Looks like someone's going to be sleeping in the guest room tonight."

Edward shrugged, wearing the same bored, world weary expression she'd seen so many times on Sebastian face. "We are Frenchman, Sebastian. Sacrifices must often be made for love." He smiled and winked at them before going up himself. It didn't seem like he thought spending the night apart from his wife was any huge loss.

Once their parents were gone, Kathryn climbed into Sebastian's lap and cried in earnest. "She doesn't matter, Kathryn. You're better then her. Stronger. You always were."

He kissed her forehead and she pulled away. "No! I can't," she said as she got up. "I can't do this anymore." She nearly ran out of the room, up the stairs and to her room. Even though she dearly wanted to run, she kept hearing her mother's voice in her head. 'Ladies do not run, Kathryn!'

"Kathryn, baby, please… she doesn't matter," she heard him say just loudly enough for her to hear as he followed her, his bare feet soundless on the cool floor. She knew that he didn't want to give Tiffany the satisfaction of knowing that she'd effected them one way or the other. "She doesn't fucking matter!"

She closed her bedroom door in his face and locked it. The door knob moved slightly as he tried to open it. "Kathryn, let me in." She desperately wanted to, but she couldn't. All she kept seeing was the look on her mother's face when she'd seen them in the kitchen. Why the fuck had she gotten rid of all her coke? She just wanted to be numb. There wasn't even any alcohol in her room, and she couldn't leave to get some because she knew Sebastian would still be out there. She went to the bathroom and made herself throw up dinner. The familiar taste of bile filled her mouth afterwards and she brushed her teeth twice trying to get rid of it. She was vaguely aware that she was still crying.

She lay down and cried into her pillow. If she couldn't drink, snort or fuck, then maybe she could sleep. It was another method of escape, as long as she didn't dream. She held on tightly to the pillow that Sebastian slept on when he was in her bed, the pillow she had begun to think of as his. She ached for him, but he wouldn't make her numb. He would make her feel too much. He always did. Right now feeling was the enemy and she swore she would explode if she felt any more than she did right now.

It was as if she were ten again. She remembered the day that she'd knocked over the damn vase, the day she had told her mother that husband number two had been touching her. Tiffany had called her a little slut and hissed at her to keep her mouth shut about it. Even then, Kathryn had been intuitive, knowing things she couldn't possibly know. She stumbled back in her realization that her mother knew all along, knew and allowed it so that the son of a bitch wouldn't leave her. The vase tipped over and crashed to the ground, shattering. Tiffany slapped her and Kathryn knew in that instant that the vase had been worth more than she was in her mother's eyes. She hadn't cried because she was convinced that she had no tears left, that she had cried so much already that she had simply used them all up. The lack of tears, however, didn't mean that she hadn't been crushed right along with the last illusion she had that her mother ever loved her.

It was the first time the concept of using her body as a bargaining chip had occurred to her. That's exactly what she set out to do, and she succeeded. Though she was young, she began to learn how to please her stepfather – he was only about 15 years her senior, so it wasn't like he was completely disgusting – and eventually it went far beyond a little touching. She still cringed when he so much as looked at her, and it still made her feel dirty, but it gave her power. Power over her mother, over her own body. Soon, it wasn't just her stepfather she was fucking. She learned that men were easily manipulated and that translated into power over them. Tiffany soon realized her mistake, but she still didn't leave the bastard. Not until she snared Edward Valmont when Kathryn was nearly fifteen years old. After all, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, right? Even if the bird was a sick child molesting bastard.

By the time Kathryn met Sebastian Valmont, she had turned herself into something cold and hard, a thing of ice and steel. A living, breathing weapon that could destroy at will, that _needed_ to destroy. She could seduce men twice her age without batting an eye. She used herself the way her mother had used her, to get what she wanted. But at least she was in control. She never quite stopped feeling dirty, like a used and unloved thing, but she buried that feeling under layers of ice. She didn't cum, didn't really enjoy being touched as much as she enjoyed winning and being worshipped. Not until Sebastian. He had broken through the ice without even trying and found something that she hadn't even realized still existed. Her heart.

He had said he loved her. But he couldn't love her. Nobody loved her. The people who thought they did didn't even know who the hell she really was and if they ever did, they wouldn't love her anymore. Not even Sebastian could possibly love her, as much as she wanted to believe he did. She had believed that he loved her before, even though he'd never said it. But then he left her, like they all did if she didn't dump them first. A man who fell in love with Annette fucking Hargrove couldn't love someone like her, not with all that he knew about her, and especially not if he ever learned what happened to her at ten. He might want to fuck her senseless, he might enjoy her skills in bed, but love? She covered her ears as if that would block out the memories. She wanted to scream. She wanted to forget. She just wanted to be ice again.

Kathryn's mind cast about desperately, looking for a safe place to rest and found only jagged edged memories that tore at her. Finally, she found something. She thought about the way Sebastian touched her and looked at her. They way they had fucked in the kitchen. The way he felt inside of her, and how he said she felt like home. The way he spontaneously announced that he loved her. Maybe… She pushed the hope away. Hope was deadly. She had hoped that her father would love her again, would enforce his visitation, and call her his princess like he used to. She had hoped her mother would grow to love her, even though she never had. She had hoped so many things until that day she knocked over the goddamn vase. All those hopes had left her with nothing but heartache. No, hope was an evil, deceptive thing. It was better to hope for nothing at all then to keep letting it kick you in the teeth. _**

* * *

**_

_Nobody reviewed the last chapter... did you enjoy it? If not, then leaving negative feedback is good too. There are only two more chapters, and this fic will be complete. Also, please let me know if you want me to work on a sequal that I've been thinking of. Thanks!_

_-Angie_


	13. Harmony

_A/N: I have edited this chapter significantly. For those of you who have already read the pre-edited version, I have put the edits in **bold.** Thanks! -Angie_

**Chapter 13  
Harmony**

Sebastian heard the lock click on Kathryn's door, but didn't quite believe that she would lock him out. No matter what had gone on between them – even after the accident when things were at their worst – neither of them had locked their doors. They had come and gone freely, whether it was to snipe at each other or simply be together. His heart sank as he tried the knob, and confirmed that it was in fact locked.

Resting his forehead against the door, he pleaded. "Kathryn, let me in." There was no answer. She was hiding from him, and that was totally unlike her. Kathryn never hid from anything, wasn't afraid of anything. Except her mother. Glaring in the direction of the master suite at the end of the long hallway, he felt the sudden desire to barge right in and strangle Tiffany with his bare hands. Fucking evil bitch, he thought. When he said it about Kathryn, it was almost always a compliment. But It definitely wasn't in Tiffany's case. He stood in the hall, trying to will Kathryn to open the door. He heard faint sounds of gagging and knew what she was doing.

After several minutes, it became obvious that Kathryn wasn't going to relent and he finally went to his room. He lay down and was immediately immersed in her smell. They had been in his bed tonight, before Kathryn had gone downstairs for a snack and he'd followed her. It made him feel horribly lonely. What if she never came back? What if she'd locked him not just out of her room, but out of her life for good? After an hour, he fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

He woke up suddenly and turned his head. Kathryn was laying on the other side of his bed, right on the edge, watching him, her face puffy and her eyes red from crying. Despite that, she still looked achingly beautiful in the soft red-tinged glow of the rising sun that spilled through his windows. "I don't want to be alone," she said softly.

There was so much sadness in her eyes. All her masks were gone, courtesy of Tiffany's earlier assault. She was simply the lonely little girl who just wanted to be loved that he'd always suspected she was inside. He wanted to hold her, protect her, but he sensed that if he tried to reach for her she would run again. He had to somehow get her to come to him. "I meant what I said downstairs. I love you, Kathryn."

She winced as if he'd insulted her. "Sebastian, don't –"

"Listen to me," he cut her off gently. "I'm going to be painfully and sickeningly sincere right now, so I suggest you pay attention. This might not happen again for another eighteen years. I know you better than anyone else. I know everything there is to know about you. I understand you. I _love_ you, Kathryn. Not your damn Marsha Brady act, or the fact that you're a fucking sex goddess, or what size dress you can fit, or how good you look on my arm. I love _you_. Every idiosyncrasy, every flaw, everything. It took me a very long time to admit that to myself. Because we're us and love just isn't something we do, but I can't help it. I don't want to help it anymore because loving you is the only thing that makes sense to me. I didn't think it could possibly work because we're both so damn fucked up, but ironically, I think that's exactly why we do work. All our jagged edges just fit. I'm not asking you to tell me you love me. I'm not asking for forever. I just want right here, right now."

She looked at him silently for a few seconds. She seemed to want to say something that she couldn't quite bring herself to say. Finally she moved over and laid her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, grateful that she had come back to him. "Nothing matters but us," he said softly.

"I hate her, Sebastian." Her voice was so cold and flat, that he believed that she really did. _Finally_, he thought. Maybe now Tiffany's hold on Kathryn would finally be broken for good.

"Would you have really done it?"

"Done what," Sebastian asked absently as he checked his appearance in the mirror. They were getting ready to go down for dinner, having slept through breakfast and screwed through lunch. They had been loud, and he hoped that Tiffany had heard them.

"Hit my mother."

"Last night, yes. She's lucky I didn't fucking strangle her. I hated seeing what she did to you." Especially since it had reminded him of what he'd nearly done to her. He looked over at her and watched her apply her make-up. She was so beautiful, and he loved sharing a bathroom with her. Yet another thing he never thought he'd feel. He put his arms around her waist. "But I don't think I'd do it now. There are so many more satisfying ways to hurt someone without resorting to physical violence." The smirk she gave his reflection mirrored his own.

Tiffany and Edward came downstairs to find their children already seated at the table. Actually, Sebastian was seated at the table, and Kathryn was on his lap with his arms wrapped loosely around her. They were talking in hushed voices and laughing.

"What is the meaning of this," Tiffany asked, clearly angry.

"I would have thought you'd figure that out after last night, Mother," Kathryn said coldly.

"Or this afternoon," Sebastian chipped in happily, his hand dipping a little below her waist.

"What has gotten into you?" Tiffany looked at her daughter as if she didn't recognize her.

"You mean other then Sebastian," she asked almost innocently. Sebastian snickered. God, he loved her when she was like this. He was tempted to just take her back upstairs. Who the hell needed food? "Let's just say I'm tired of being your fucking puppet, Mother."

"How could you turn on your own mother for this… boy?" She spat out the word 'boy' as if it were a curse and Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Mother, just give it up! I've made my choice, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. Most of my money is already in trust and you can't take it away. Besides, I seriously doubt Father will give a damn who I'm currently fucking."

**"Don't tell me you actually believe his declarations of love! I didn't raise you to be so naïve that you would drop your panties for some smooth talking Lothario just because he swears his undying love! He'll be finished with you in a week, and that will be the end of you. Everyone will think of you as that poor girl who could have been something special if she hadn't been ruined by that Valmont boy." Sebastian tightened his grip on Kathryn as he listened to Tiffany describe exactly what his original plan had been. He longed for the days when he didn't feel guilt. Frankly, guilt sucked. "The sex can't be so good that you're willing to throw your entire future away for it."**

**"You're wrong about us. We're going to prove you wrong."**

**"God help you if you don't." Tiffany actually looked defeated, and Sebastian may have even felt sorry for her if he didn't hate her so much. He wondered if somehow, in her warped way, she had actually cared about Kathryn and had just been doing what she thought was best for her only daughter. It didn't really matter, though. Whatever Tiffany's true motivation, she was even more toxic to Kathryn then the coke or the purging had ever been. She turned to leave, but Kathryn called out to her before she got to the door and she turned, a slightly hopeful gleam in her eye.**

**"Just for the record? The sex _is_ that good."**

**Fury passed over her face and for a moment, he thought that she was going to say or do something but she turned and walked away, leaving them with Edward who merely sat down to eat. Kathryn had a plate sent up to her mother, but other than that didn't seem to give her a second thought. Kathryn sat next to Sebastian, and the two kept making excuses to touch throughout the meal. He half expected his father to say something, but he simply glanced at them now and then and remained silent. Until Sebastian and Kathryn excused themselves at the end of the meal and he asked Sebastian to stay behind for a moment.**

**Sebastian waited until Kathryn left the room before speaking. "Don't tell me you let that harridan get to you. You're not about to threaten to cut me off, are you?"**

**Edward laughed. "Don't be so dramatic. I just thought I should give you a little advice."**

**Sebastian snorted. It was amusing that his father was sitting him down to give him advice now, when he was an adult.**

**"I know. I haven't been much of a father to you. Though I have my own totally inadequate reasons, I'll not bore you with them. I would like to see you avoid some of the same pitfalls that I had, if at all possible."**

**"You mean like driving my wife to commit suicide," Sebastian asked coldly, his voice bitter. The second it was out of his mouth he regretted it. So much for his much vaunted self control and carefully constructed indifference.**

**"_Vous avez raison, naturellement. Ce devrait être au dessus de la liste d'erreurs à éviter._" 'You are right, of course. That should be on the top of the list of things to avoid.' Edward pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his picket and lit one with a slightly trembling hand.**

**"_Pardon_." Sebastian suddenly felt hollow. He remembered how much of a mess his father was after his mother died.**

**"Why are you apologizing? You meant it. Perhaps the one good thing that I've taught you is to never apologize for saying what you mean. I blame myself far more then you do."**

**"So what's your advice?"**

**Edward smiled slightly. "My advice is to be honest with yourself about whether you can be faithful. And if you can't, leave her now. Before you destroy her life."**

**"Kathryn knows what I am. And she's tougher then Mom was."**

**"You mother had a bigger pair of balls then I did, and she knew what I was too. When a woman loves you as much as Kathryn does, going into it with her eyes wide open won't make it hurt any less." Edward's eyes stared blankly at something in the difference, as if he were seeing his wife again. "Noelle fell apart right in front of me, and I didn't even see it. I didn't want to see it. I was too selfish and couldn't imagine my life without her. You may have her eyes and her smile, but you are still my son. It's not so easy for men like us to change."**

**

* * *

**

Sebastian went upstairs to find Kathryn, thinking about what his father had said. He may have even asked her about it, perhaps starting one of their hours-long discussions, but there was something about the way she was sitting on her bed waiting for him that made every thought he had disappear. He wondered for perhaps the thousandth time how being so lewd never seemed to cheapen her.

**"There you are. I'm in the mood for a little… worship." She smiled at him, her eyes dark, as she uncrossed her legs and opened them lewdly.**

**He closed the door behind him and crossed the room. Kneeling in front of her, he said, "I suppose every goddess deserves to have someone worship at her alter every once in a while."**

**He smiled mischeiveously as he began teasing her mercilessly by stroking, kissing and licking her thighs and never getting to close to where he knew she wanted him, ignoring her demands that he 'stop fucking around and eat her already.' Until she finally gave in and begged. He may be whipped, he thought with a satisfied smirk, but he wasn't that whipped. As much as he might love her, he wasn't about to become her bitch.**

**Tiffany steered clear of them the next day and left as soon as possible. The Bahamas, he thought his father said. Edward disappeared at the same time, but it wasn't clear to either him or Kathryn if they had gone together. It really didn't matter either way. Their parents were irrelevant and had been for a long time. Kathryn was even able to be at her deliciously cold best around her mother now. He knew disappointing Tiffany still bothered her, but he was proud of her for not showing it.**

Sebastian was at the refreshment table pouring more vodka into the punch – whoever had done it before had been far too conservative – when Annette suddenly appeared beside him.

"You could get expelled for that."

He glanced over at her. She looked lovely in a soft pink gown. He smiled fondly at her, thinking that Kathryn would rather slit her wrists with a dull butter knife then ever wear that color. "Yeah, well, I've already got all my credits, and I'm enrolled at New York University for next fall. It's not like I'm actually coming back. I really don't give a fuck if I march down the stage. That's more Kathryn's department then mine."

"So you're staying? I thought you wanted to get away from New York."

"Eventually."

"Once you can convince Kathryn to leave?"

He regarded her silently for a second, admiring her astuteness, before he started filling glasses for himself and Kathryn. "Something like that. You look amazing, by the way. Have you lost a little weight?"

She shrugged and looked away for a second. "Thank you. I did lose a few pounds."

"Are you here with… what was his name again?"

"Bobby. Yes, he's here."

"That's good. Something tells me that you didn't come over here to exchange pleasantries though."

She smiled slightly. "I came over to ask you to help me with something."

"What would that be?"

"Harmony."

"Oh, that." The silly bitch had publicly embarrassed Kathryn, accusing her of fucking her boyfriend. People had actually laughed, and that couldn't be tolerated. To add insult to injury, it wasn't even true. Kathryn hadn't been with another man since the first time with Sebastian. Kathryn had mercilessly cock teased the bastard, but that was as much his fault as it was Kathryn's. Personally, Sebastian didn't have any sympathy for the stupid little slut. If she had publically embarrassed anybody, it should have been her idiot boyfriend. It was beyond him why women always blamed the other woman and not the cheating jerk who was supposed to be committed to them. Besides, Harmony had to learn that you couldn't just go around half cocked insulting the people who had power. It was a good way to get squashed. Annette knew that, which was why she was pleading Harmony's case. She also knew what a vicious little piece of work his Kathryn was, Sebastian thought with a slight smirk. "Sorry. That's completely out of my hands."

"You're the only one who can stop her, Sebastian."

"True. But I'm not going to."

"How can you just stand by and watch her destroy people? Don't you have a conscience at all?"

"Actually, I do. It's not much of one though, since I rarely feed it and seldom let it out. It's very frail and any shock to its system could very well kill it off for good, so it generally lurks in the dark recesses of my mind hiding from reality. Harmony's destruction won't bother it one bit I'm afraid. It probably won't even notice." In fact, he had helped Kathryn pull it off. And it was some of his best work yet.

"I can't believe… who are you?"

"The only person standing between you and Kathryn's wrath. In all the time we've been together, you were the one thing that ever managed to come between us. Do you honestly think she doesn't want to crush you into dust for that? You're not naïve, Ann. You must know on some level that what she has planned for your little friend is nothing compared to what she wants to do to you."

"She has you back. Why would she care about me?"

"Because I'm the only person that I know of that Kathryn's ever forgiven for anything since I've known her. Because I recognize the look in her eyes whenever she says your name. She's just biding her time."

"For what?"

"Till you forget. Till you let your guard down and you're happy. Then one day, Kathryn will be standing over the ruins of what was once your life looking down at you with that self-satisfied smile of hers. You'll never know what hit you."

She looked disgusted and Sebastian almost laughed. If she had been anyone else, he would have. "How do you know she's not planning the same thing for you?"

"I don't. Although I do believe that she thinks the accident was punishment enough. I don't think she has the stomach to really hurt me any more than that. As long, of course, as she never finds out about what I originally planned to do to her I should be able to protect you."

"How could you be with someone like that?"

"Because we're the same, Ann." His voice was gentle as he tried to cushion the blow that he knew this revelation must be. "I told you that I wasn't who you thought I was. I can be even crueler then Kathryn. She only strikes out when she feels she has to. I usually do it… simply because I can. Or, on occasion, to please Kathryn."

Part of him wanted to warn her that Harmony would met her fate tonight, within minutes, just so that she would be prepared but he knew that if he did that Ann would just take her new friend and leave. Kathryn would do something much worse than the original plan. She never liked having her fun spoiled. Besides, he hated when his plans went awry, and he'd put a lot of energy into this – his first game with Kathryn in almost a year. He simply left her standing there, looking stunned. It was better this way. Better that she knew the truth about who he was. When he leaned in for a kiss, she pulled away.

"What was that about?"

He sighed. "She was just begging for mercy on Harmony's behalf."

"Did you tell her?"

He gave her an evil grin. "And ruin our fun? You're kidding, right?"

She kissed him then, her momentary doubts allayed. "You're sexier when you're bad, Valmont."

"Speaking of which, I think that we should go find an empty classroom once the festivities are over. You know how hard it makes me to watch you destroy someone."

"You did most of the… heavy lifting."

"Which always turns you on. And I for one don't want to wait until we get home to fuck your brains out." He traced the side of her face, amused no one watching had the slightest idea that they were plotting the downfall of one of their own. They probably thought they were whispering sweet nothings and I love yous like some insipid couple.

The lights dimmed before she could respond. "Ooh. Showtime."

They turned towards the stage where a collage of photos from the school year were being projected against a screen while a student was intoning an insipid, but occasionally funny, narrative. At least that's what was being shown on the screen at first. Suddenly, the photos started taking on a decidedly pornographic nature. The narrator didn't notice at first and was going on about the struggles that had been overcome by their winning lacrosse team. The pictures featured a young woman with striking features and long read hair, doing some rather naughty things with an unusually large dildo. The thoroughly fuckable Harmony Masters.

About four of Sebastian's works of art flashed across the screen before the flustered student operating the overhead projector finally managed to turn it off. The last picture had been Sebastian's favorite. Harmony was spread eagle on the bed, her nipples erect, the dildo nearly completely inside of her. She was in the middle of an orgasm. There was something about watching a woman cum that just did it for Sebastian. The more he had to do with it, the more it turned him on. The pictures really were good. He felt slightly disappointed that no one would see the rest of them. At least not until they found the website that Tuttle had set up.

When the lights finally came back on after a long hesitation, which Sebastian guessed was due to shock, he glanced at Kathryn. It was her that he liked to watch when one of their little plots came to fruition. She had her best shocked and disgusted face on, hand slightly covering her mouth, as she looked over at Harmony. Everyone in fact was looking at Harmony, who started to cry and finally bolted out of the room, Ann following behind. Some guy with gray eyes and sandy hair was left behind. Must have been Bobby.

He didn't have time to ponder it though. He needed to find that empty room. Kathryn was flushed from watching her kill, and he was hard as a rock from watching her. They slipped out unnoticed in the commotion and went to a different floor, where he pulled her into an empty room.

"Did you tell her that you took the pictures," she asked as they began undressing each other frantically. "That you tutored innocent little Harmony on how to pose like a good little slut?"

"No. I'm sure Harmony will fill her in on all the grisly details."

"Did you fuck her? You did have her in your room an awfully long time." It was the first time she'd asked and he pulled away to look at her.

"No. Did you want me too?" He felt a little put off at the possibility, but then was relieved to see from the look on her face that she hadn't.

"It doesn't matter," she said coolly.

"Well," he whispered in her ear, "my lying little cunt, I just want you to know that I'm not going to be gentle with you."

"Who the fuck asked for gentle, asswipe?"

He turned her around so that her back was to him and bent her over the desk. She let out a surprised little yelp and he smiled. "Just wanted to make sure we were clear."

_**

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**Thanks for the reviews!**

_**fab84, it was almost as if they don't even have parents most of the time.**_

_**LOL FemminaPerfetta, S&K suddinly found more to say, so it's been extended by at least two more chapters. But the sequal is still being planned.**_

_**-Angie**_


	14. Tortured

**Chapter 14  
Torture****d**

Sebastian absolutely refused to use computers. Of course he knew _how_ to use them, he just seemed to hate them, or at the very least disdain them. When he wrote a paper, he'd write it out longhand in his loathsome handwriting and get some poor student to type it up for him. Poor, Kathryn thought, not because he or she had to type it but because they had to decipher that horrid scribbling that Sebastian called writing in order to do so. He didn't have an email account – he seemed to feel that there was something decidedly creepy about email and once said that it was for pedophiles and losers. Most people had no clue that Sebastian had his own laptop. Why, Kathryn could never figure out. Maybe he wanted it just in case he ever had to do something himself, or maybe just because it was another accessory.

Right now, Kathryn sat at his desk playing with the computer while he did whatever took him two hours in the bathroom on most mornings. It wasn't like he needed to do much besides shower, shave and comb his hair. Maybe take the occasional dump. But did any of that really require two fucking hours? As much time as they'd been spending together, including in the bathroom, she would have thought she'd figure it out by now. She sighed in annoyance as she played chess. She was losing. She actually hated chess, although it was almost on obsession to become good at it. Sebastian taught her how to play years ago, and he usually embarrassed her. She didn't have the patience to play well, which didn't make sense to her. Years of playing chess with people's lives, of patiently waiting for the perfect moment to move, should transfer well onto a stupid board, shouldn't it? That a man with the attention span of a gnat could be so much better at it then she was gulled her.

"Sebastian!" He was going to make them late for their own graduation. She was the valedictorian, as well as student body president, and she damn well didn't want to miss any of it. Especially since Dorothy was salutatorian. She liked the idea of watching the little virgin come in second. Again.

"Stop being so damn impatient! I'll be out in a minute."

She closed the game and shut down the computer. She was tired of being embarrassed by a stupid machine and tried to console herself with the knowledge that she still kicked his ass at backgammon and, her personal favorite, strip poker. Just when she was about to call him again, Sebastian came out of the bathroom looking especially yummy. She sighed. All she ever wanted to do lately was jump his bones. It just wasn't right for a man to be that beautiful. Of course, when she told him he was beautiful, he got all pissy. Like pouting would affirm his manhood.

"Well, what do you think?" He held out his arms.

She smiled. "You'll do." She stood up and smoothed out her burgundy dress. It managed to be classy and modest while clinging to her in all the right places.

"So will you," he said as he regarded her appreciatively. "You do realize that we're going to have to fuck on school grounds today. For old times' sake."

"For old times' sake," she agreed with a smirk.

* * *

The place they picked was especially risky. They were behind the stage, and could hear the excited voices of their classmates on the other side of the black curtain discussing their post-high school plans as Sebastian almost frantically slammed himself into Kathryn from behind. If she could have formed a coherant thought, she would have wondered if he were purposely trying to get her to scream. The fact that they were fully clothed muffled any sounds that their bodies would be making – other then, of course, the wet sounds his cock was making inside her cunt. They both managed to keep it down to the sounds of their heavy breathing and an occasional soft whimper or low moan. If they were too loud, they would be easily discovered. They both came so hard that they nearly collapsed.

They were straightening their clothes when they heard someone clear their throat on the other side of the stage.

"Am I interrupting something?" Annette emerged from the shadows, her brow knit in a frown and her arms crossed. What the hell was she angry about, Kathryn wondered, torn between curiosity and amusement.

"Ann. What are you doing back here?" Kathryn studied Sebastian's face as he addressed her, looking for any trace of the infatuation he once had for the blond twit. She saw a little of the softness that he used to show towards her, but nothing besides that. She wasn't sure, though, that she liked even that. Besides which, Sebastian was at least as good as she was at masking his emotions, or mimicking ones he didn't even come close to having. She was never really sure with him – maybe he felt more than he was showing. That was why it was so completely fucked up that she trusted him.

"I need to talk to you. In private."

Sebastian looked at Kathryn before returning his gaze back to Annette. "Anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of Kathryn.

"No," Kathryn spoke up. "I need to take care of a few things." She kissed him on the cheek, looking much more confident then she felt. "Dorothy," she said with a sneer before making her exit. Well, she didn't actually exit. She went to the opening for the curtain, which was hidden from view, opened it and let it close before creeping a little closer to listen to them. She could even see them through the scaffolding of the stage.

"…you do it," Annette was saying.

"Is this about Harmony again?" Kathryn smiled at the bored tone of Sebastian's voice. Harmony was yesterday's news to him. "That was nothing. That was a fucking prank for us. You should see us systematically fuck up someone's life."

"I never would have believed that you could be so cruel."

He laughed in exasperation. "What the hell do you think I've been trying to tell you since we broke up? What the fuck do you want from me?"

"I don't know. Maybe just some indication that you're human, that the man I fell in love with is in there somewhere."

"He's not. He was an act, a rouse, a pretense. Want more synonyms? Is _any_ of this sinking in yet?" He was beginning to get annoyed. She could tell in the way that his sarcasm was beginning to go from subtlety cutting to biting.

"So you never loved me?"

He sighed, and suddenly his tone was different. It was softer, as if he didn't want to hurt to stupid bitch. "I didn't say that. But you never loved me. You never even knew me. You need to accept that."

"If this is really who you are, then why did you love me?"

"Because… because it was simple with you. There were no games. No complications. And you made me feel… normal. I've never really felt normal before."

She reached out as if to touch him and he grabbed her wrist to stop her. "But what I feel for Kathryn is far deeper than that," he said, a pleading quality in his voice as if her desperately needed her to understand. "It's complicated and it's messy, and we need the occasional little game between us like we need air. And I need her like an addict craves his next fix. I know now that I will never stop. Never."

She pulled her hand away as if his touched burned her. "That sounds like torture."

He smiled. "Sometimes it is. But it's the kind of torture I can't live without. And I don't have to change for her, but I have without even trying because I love her. Leaving her would be like ripping out my own heart."

"I just needed…"

"What?"

She shrugged. "To make sure."

All Kathryn's instincts told her that there was something else, something that she wasn't saying. She was also getting tired of watching this sickly sweet scene. God, just being near the bitch turned Sebastian into mush.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I just… I know I shouldn't be shocked. I walked into this with my eyes wide open." She took a deep breath.

Kathryn couldn't listen to anymore. It wasn't so much what they were saying, but the way Sebastian was behaving. He never gave any woman but Kathryn the time of day after he'd fucked them. Now here he was having a long, unnecessary conversation with the woman he'd left her for once already. She slipped out quietly and had the driver come pick her up. Annette's presence had a way of bringing up things she didn't want to face. Like the fact that Sebastian had already betrayed her, had already ripped her heart in two. Like fact that he had done it so easily, so casually, with none of the tenderness he had shown Dorothy, without a single thought to what it would do to her. Like the fact that he really had fallen in love with Annette. She found some vodka in the mini bar inside the limo and drank it straight out of the bottle. How could she really trust him? By the time she arrived at the townhouse, the bottle was nearly empty. She brought it with her into her bedroom to finish it off. Her cell phone was ringing, but she paid it no attention. She was lost in her thoughts, in the pain of the past. Lost in the knowledge that as much as Sebastian's rejection hurt her, seeing him laying in the hospital had been worse. Far worse. Why had he forgiven her? Why wasn't he seeking vengeance? She had hurt him… the code they lived by demanded retribution. Someone had made her look like a whore, she turned them into one. Some jock called him a fag, he fucked his girlfriend and published pictures. Someone hurt them, they fucked them up. Someone fucked with them, they destroyed them. People like her and Sebastian didn't forgive and forget. Something was wrong. She didn't know what… she just knew it was something.

She lay there holding the now empty bottle as if it were an old friend, watching the shadows move across her room. Suddenly Sebastian was there sitting beside her. He took the empty bottle from her hand and turned her face to look her in the eyes. "I looked for you everywhere. What happened?"

"Do you know why I asked you to help me break Harmony?"

"Because she embarrassed you. And because you like it when we play our games together."

She shook her head slowly. "It was a test."

"A test?" He was looking at her suspiciously. "What kind of test?"

She felt her mouth twist in a bitter smile. "You weren't the only one who changed last summer. When I nearly killed you-"

He cut her off, as if his wanted to defend her even from herself. "Kathryn, it was an accident!"

"It was still my fault! When I realized what I nearly did to you, I didn't want to play anymore. It killed something inside of me to see you laying there, to sit next to your hospital bed not knowing if you'd ever wake up again. Then when you did and you remembered. The way you looked at me." She wasn't crying, but part of her wanted to. Maybe then she wouldn't feel like she was going to explode. "Things went so horribly wrong because of that damn bet. That stupid fucking game ruined us."

"It wasn't the game. I wanted to seduce her anyway, remember? I refused to help you destroy Cecile so that I could devote all my energies to it."

She regarded him silently. She supposed he was right. It had been his determination to find a new challenge, something that took more than dinner and a little bullshit to get him what he wanted. "Whatever caused it, I sent Ronald after you, and I didn't even think anything through I was just so… hurt. It nearly cost me the only thing in the world that I ever gave a damn about. I gave up. I made no plans to get even, not even against Annette. I was fucking paralyzed."

"So you wanted to see if you could still do it?"

She shook her head. It was hurting Sebastian again that she didn't have to the stomach for, but she'd be damned if she'd say it out loud. "I wanted to see if you could do it. If you could still ruin someone for no other reason than that I asked you to. If my boy was really back. I also wanted to see if you would fuck her. I didn't need to pull out the big guns to ruin the bitch. I could have handled it on my own"

He smirked. "You're the only one I want to fuck, baby." She searched his face but found no sign that he was particularly disturbed by destroying Harmony simply to prove himself to her.

"Are you honestly trying to tell me that you haven't been fucking any sluts?"

"Besides you," he asked, slightly amused as he shook his head. "No. At least not for the past several weeks. Would you like to know the exact date I last fucked someone other then you?"

"Why? Don't you miss it?" She meant the thrill of seduction, getting a woman to succumb to him especially when she is resistant. The more resistant, the better.

He looked at her silently, his pale blue eyes filled with an emotion that seemed to lend them a slight hint of green, making them to color of the ocean. Regret? Pain? She looked way. "After you, there didn't seem to be much point. You're part of me Kathryn. It's like we're the same person." It was cryptic, but somehow she understood him on a visceral level. It was like he was echoing her own emotions.

"I know," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotions that she didn't have the energy to hide right now. "But I'm not sure I can do this anymore. I'm not sure I can… I knew this would happen."

"Knew what would happen?"

She didn't answer the question. Instead she said, "if I lose you again…" She stopped and buried her face in her hands. Even drunk she couldn't admit the truth. How fucked up was that? How fucked up was she? "You make me weak."

"Kathryn? Baby, look at me." When she didn't move he pulled her hands away from her face. "We're only weak when we're apart. That was our mistake last summer, we let things come between us. We don't have to make that mistake ever again."

She reached up and ran her fingers though his soft curls. "Swear it. Swear you won't leave me again." She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice, but wasn't sure how well she succeeded.

"I swear. I won't ever leave you." He kissed her. After holding her for a few minutes, he began to silently undress her. She could somehow tell that he wasn't doing it because he wanted to fuck her, but there was something about the way that he gently removed her clothes that was more intimate then sex. He tucked her in like she was a child and lay next to her with his arms wrapped around her until she fell asleep. She felt taken care of and safe. It the feeling was so alien that it frightened her.

* * *

Kathryn's head felt as if it were going to explode. She lay still for a few moments, trying to get her bearings and deal with the steady throbbing that was making her feel sick to her stomach. She cracked an eye open and closed it almost immediately. The sun was blinding, even though the drapes were closed. "Who the fuck turned the sun up?"

"It lives!" She slowly turned her head in the direction of the overly cheerful voice and peered at its source through barely cracked lids. Sebastian was sitting on the side of the bed next to a breakfast tray grinning like a Cheshire cat. She would have hit him over the head with it if she weren't convinced that any sudden movement would lead to very bad things, like vomiting all over her sheets. "I was starting to consider calling 911."

She sat up slowly. "That might still be necessary," her voice came out sounding hoarse and dry. "Especially after I kill the prick in my room."

He smiled. "Oh, stop being such a whiny little bitch. You still look beautiful, even though you're a little green. You're not going to puke, are you?" He placed the tray over her lap. It had two aspirin, dry toast and a glass of the nasty tomato juice concoction that actually did work to ease hangovers. And his journal.

"What's this?" She picked up the journal.

"You can't honestly be that hung over."

"Why are you giving me your journal?"

"So you can trust me. My only request is that you read the entire thing before you murder me. Drink your breakfast first. You'll need it."

It took her a couple of hours to get around to it, but she finally read his journal, just as he requested. For some reason, she was apprehensive. Once she began, she wished she hadn't. Some of the things he'd written about her were utterly vicious, scathing commentaries on how heartless she was and how no one would ever really love her. She nearly cried through those parts, a tear actually escaping once in a while. There were also passages that detailed how much he wanted to fuck her, different fantasies that he'd had about her, their games, details of who they'd destroyed and how, how much he admired her 'evil genius,' not to mentioned details of his personal conquests. Sometimes he would describe taking girls to bed who resembled her and pretending that it was really his 'wicked stepsister,' as he often called her, that he was fucking.

Sebastian wasn't around. The son of a bitch had decided to leave her alone to discover how much he despised her when he wasn't obsessed with trying to fuck her. The only thing that kept her desire to march over to his room and bash his fucking face in with his damn journal was two words. She stared at the words and tried to force the truth from them. Did he mean them? Two words that seemed to carry the weight of the entire world. _My love_.

There were pictures of her asleep and entire passages about him watching her and wondering what she dreamed of, which was admittedly a little creepy, and one of her doing lines of coke. There was another of her riding one of her toys, she couldn't tell which one because the focus was on her and he was barely even in the picture, just a pair of hands holding her hips. She rolled her eyes. Stalker much? She felt a slow smile spread across her lips as she wondered if he jerked off to it, finding the though of the self professed sex god sweating and gasping as he stroked himself with images of her fucking in front of him more than a little amusing. The way he was writing gradually began to change. It got slightly softer, a little more sentamental. He wrote about his birthday, when they'd spent the day taking pictures and laughing. His account of her birthday party. Spending Christmas alone together and New Years, when he'd trapped her underneath the mistletoe and kissed her. She touched her lips, remembering that kiss. There was so much passion and longing in it that her knees had gone weak. The first time they fucked. Some of what he'd written was so moving that she once again came close to tears, but not in anger. He was still occasionally vicious, and he causally called her a slut or a bitch. But he was Sebastian, and vicious was a part of who he was, wasn't it? Just like it was a part of who she was. They were the same in that regard. The main thing, though, was that he really did love her. She got to the end and found that the last entry was dated yesterday. He must have written it after she was asleep.

_I was afraid when I saw Kathryn laying on the bed, the empty bottle of vodka in her hand. The last time I saw her she was happy. What had happened to change her attitude so completely? Was it my conversation with Ann? Doesn't the bitch realize by now that no one could compare to her? And yes, I am pissed that she keeps doing this. What the fuck do I have to do? Sometimes she gets in these moods and I know that she is purposely trying to push me away. It's not malicious. It's not because she doesn't love me, or because she wants to hurt me. I know how she feels about me even though she can't admit it yet. I know why she can't, and that's okay. I see it in her eyes when I'm inside of her, or when she's laughing with me – or at me – and I feel it when she's kissing me and that's enough for now. See? I can't even stay angry with the slut._

_I sit here watching her sleep, and I know she's scared. I'm scared too. I know the danger just as well as she does. People like us don't fall in love like everyone else. We're ruined by it. Like I said before, it cuts us because it is totally incompatible with who we are, how we are. That's what we always believed. The bitch of it all is that if I walk away from her, or if she walks away from me, I know with a frightening certainty _that_ would end me so completely that I'm willing to take the risk of being eaten alive by my love for her. Maybe neither of us deserves it. We've ruined so many people, and neither of us feels particularly sorry for any of the things we've done. We don't offer penance. We don't suffer from guilty consciences. There will be no self-flagellation on either of our parts (unless, of course, things get really kinky). The point is that I really don't give a damn if either of us deserves to be happy. I want it for as long as I can have it, and I want to give it to her for as long as she will let me. I love it when I see that dazzling smile on her face, and I know it's me that put it there. That smile makes it worth paying whatever price I'll have to pay for having something that was never meant for someone like me. Yeah, so I'm pussywhipped. So fucking what?_

_So what do I do now? How do I convince her that she can trust me? That it's only her that I want, that I've always wanted. Even before I met her, I wanted her. I just didn't know it yet. That emptiness that I felt was just waiting for her to fill it. And it's not just her body, I want all of her. I want her mind and her soul. I want the good and the bad. Everything. Maybe that's what I have to give her. This journal that was originally supposed to record my conquests, but became a shrine to the love of my life instead, is the one thing that I've ever withheld from her._

_I will give it to her in the morning. I can only hope that she understands the parts when I was angry, or too shallow to understand what I was really feeling for her._

* * *

Kathryn walked into his room to find him laying on the bed staring up at the ceiling, a book laying forgotten beside him and his glasses still on his face. She closed the door and saw him look at her, watching her silently and warily as if her were afraid that she would attack him. She opened the journal to a page that she had held with her finger and began reading as she slowly walked towards him.

"'Her skin is as white and flawless as porcelain. She is stone and ice and sometimes I almost expect her skin to be cold and hard when I touch it. But it never is. It's warm and soft, like silk left out in the sun. Her touch burns me, sears me, brands me. I am hers and I know that I can never truly belong to anyone else. Not even myself.

"'I call what we do fucking because that is the word I have always used, but it is so far beyond that. I am at a loss for what to call it. Great sex? Making love? It was all of that and more. Nothing I can come up with seems adequate. I feel like I am drowning in her, breathing her in. It is a strange thing to burn and drown at the same time but I would never trade it for anything.

"'By the time I came inside her that first night, I knew I was hopelessly hers. At first I tried to fight it, tried to deny it, but the minute I was in the same room with her again, all my denials were forgotten. She has marked me as her territory, cut me open straight through to what passes for my heart, and I like to think I have done the same to her. It's not just my heart she owns, but all of me. Whenever someone else touches me, or I touch them, I feel as if I've broken a pact we've silently made. She is my obsession. My addiction. My home. My love.'"

She is straddling him now, looking down at his face. She closes the journal and puts it on his nightstand. She touches him, caressing him and running her fingers through his hair with a gentleness that she never knew that she possessed, that she would have mocked yesterday in anyone else. Her heart aches at the way he is looking up at her, at the way his hands gently caress her thighs. His face is open, like it was the morning after their parents caught them in the kitchen, something that she has seldom seen. She smiles, knowing that there are no masks between them in that moment. Finally she leans over and kisses him, slowly tasting his mouth. There is passion in their kiss, but it isn't urgent as their tongues slowly explore each other.

She marvels at how he always knows what she wants as she feels his hands between them, freeing his erect cock and pushing her panties to the side. She didn't need foreplay… she was already wet and ready for him and she just wanted him inside her. He enters her and they fuck slowly, deliberately, wordlessly as their hands roaming along each other's body, changing positions often. They both know that this isn't about sex, or who is the most skilled. It is not a competition, as so many things become between them. It's not even about passion, that smoldering desire that sometimes seemed like it would burn them alive. This is about something more, something deeper, something that scares the hell out of them both but that neither of them can resist. It is as if they are making promises with their bodies that they couldn't yet make with their mouths, but desperately needed to make anyway. Neither say anything as they stare into each other's eyes. The sounds of their labored breathing, soft moaning, and occasional groans float into the silence like prayers. Neither believed in God, and most certainly not the concepts of mercy or grace, and yet they catch a glimpse of all those things in each other. They cum at the same time, and collapse in each other's arms.

She doesn't move as they stare at each other. Neither of them seems to want to break the silence. It reminds her of their first time together.

"If you fuck with me, I'll destroy you," she finally says into the silence, her voice soft. It isn't a threat. It's a plea, a request that he not hurt her and a warning of what will happen if he does.

He smiles and touches her lips with his fingertips almost reverently and she knows he understands. "I know. Same here, sweetheart."

They lay there staring at each other with wary awe, knowing that they each possessed the ability to destroy the other – were perhaps the only ones who truly could. This thing between them could go terribly wrong and leave them both shattered. But if they could somehow pull this off…

"_I__acta alea est_," he says softly. The die is cast. She smiled. Sebastian and his damn Latin.

She awoke to find him gone. His journal was still out in the open, a rarity. She supposed that after yesterday there was no reason for him to keep it locked away from her. The door opened and Sebastian entered wearing a huge smile. "Breakfast is downstairs. It's all your favorites."

She held out her hand to him and his expression sobered when he saw hers. He came to the bed and sat next to her, taking her hand.

"I have something to tell you."

"Okay."

"You can't look at me while I'm telling you."

He studied her silently for a few seconds before looking away. "Okay."

She pulled her hand away from his as she began to tell him everything about the day she broke the vase, everything that had come before and what happened afterwards. When she was finished she waited for him to speak. He was silently staring off into the distance, and unreadable expression on his face. When he finally looked at her again, his eyes were soft.

"Don't pity me," she said coldly.

He snorted. "Please. You're too strong to ever be pitied. You're no fucking victim. You never could be." He touched her arm. "But things that hurt you will always hurt me, and I will always want to protect you even though I know that you don't need it. Don't fucking try to begrudge me that, Kathryn. I don't have a lot of experience with this love shit, but I'm pretty sure that comes with the territory."

* * *

_Thanks Kaila! I take that as a huge compliment, since I love all of SalvaVeritate's stuff. I've been slowly going through it as I get time, and I've been struck by how similar our visions of S/K are, and how often it looks like I've been stealing. LOL..._

_Thanks for the kudos Natalia! I hope you enjoy this latest addition._

_-Angie_


	15. Interlude: Sebastian's Journal

_This may end up being a regular thing... or it may not. Started out just being a writing exercise just to get into the character's head a bit for a chapter, but it sort of evolved into its own thing. This would have been written after Sebastian's break-up with Annette, but before they were outed (middle of chapter 11)._

**Interlude: Sebastian's Journal  
Bleeding Love**

Kathryn and I aren't normal. In fact, we're both incredibly fucked up. Perhaps the most fucked up people I've ever met. That's saying a lot considering the kind of repressed, stifling society that we grew up in. Everyone around us likes to delude themselves with the deeply held belief that they were decent, upstanding people while privately fucking, snorting, shooting up, drinking and gossiping their way through life. Their hypocrisy amused us. We made a game out of how far we could push people, how hard it would be to lay their hypocrisy bare for the entire world to see. Because even though Kathryn played the good girl, she never once believed her own press. She is not a hypocrite… she was something far more dangerous. She is a demon who pretended to be an angel just to escape the consequences of her actions and to fulfill her deep-seated need to be universally loved. I, however, reveled in being the bad boy, the heart breaker, the player. The dog. Which explains why we understood each other so well, since Kathryn is a bitch. Sometimes she calls me her evil cherub, which is probably a veiled reference to the fact that she insists that I am not handsome so much as I am 'pretty.' Like I said, she's a bitch.

We ruined people for sport, for revenge, and sometimes just for the hell of it. But before you dare say that we are some sort of heartless monsters for what we do (although I will admit that you aren't all that far from the truth), I suggest that you consider that we usually have the full cooperation of our victims. I have never raped a woman. Yes, I am usually cruel when it's over or even during the actually event if I can get away with it, even to the point of sadism, but it was always consensual. They know what I am. They've all heard the fucking stories. Like the time I told the very recently deflowered (by me, of course) Cecil Caldwell that the difference between her and a toilet was that the toilet didn't follow you around begging for more when you were done with it. She cried. I smirked. I can't explain why I enjoy hurting women after I've fucked them. Like I said, I'm incredibly fucked up.

Before you gloat and chastise me for being such a cold hearted son of a bitch, at least admit that you are no better than me. You watch the destruction I cause like a voyeur hiding in the bushes, whacking off while watching his neighbors screw. You just don't have the balls, and likely the intellect, to cause the mayhem yourself. So you live vicariously though me and then shake your head at what a naughty boy I am. At least be honest about it, if only this once.

There was only one woman I've ever met that I didn't want to hurt – aside from my mother – and that was Annette Hargrove. What can I say? I loved her. I loved her innocence, I loved her uncomplicated honesty, I loved the intensity of her convictions, I loved that she didn't fuck with my head or tease me to distraction. I loved that I could let my guard down with her, and that even though she could see straight through all my bullshit she loved me anyway without reservation. Now before you go into sugar shock, let me reiterate that I'm completely fucked up. I know I keep saying that, but it's imperative that you understand that in order to really get the rest of what I have to say. To get why I couldn't just live happily ever after with my innocent, uncomplicated Ann in a land of sunshine and gumdrops.

Kathryn is… is like my other self. She has become such a part of me that when I left her for Ann, I woke up one day to realize that I felt as if one of my limbs had been cut off. I heard a song today, purely by accident, and though I usually avoid songs of this ilk like the plague, something about it made me listen. Made me think of Kathryn. Because it was what she did to me… she cut me open and now the wound won't heal. It just keeps bleeding. I don't know how to stop it. Ann slowed it down and for a while I was hopeful that it would finally close and stay that way. But it wasn't long before a word, or a glance, or an accidental touch (or was it accidental, I can never tell with Kathryn) would pull it open again and I'd be right back where I started. The longer it went on, the less of a girlfriend and the more of a bandage Ann became. I hated doing that to her but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't stop the slow progression.

Like us, our love wasn't normal. My wicked stepsister and I were like sharp objects whose only purpose was to cut so I suppose it's fitting that our love would cut too, leaving deep gashes in its wake. I was cutting Ann every bit as much as Kathryn was cutting me. I simply couldn't help it – it was my nature. That's what made me finally leave her. In retrospect I suppose that the bland vanillaness (yes, I'm well aware that's not a word) would have gotten me eventually, but it was the knowledge that I was hurting her that did us in first. I knew I could never break free of Kathryn, and I knew that even if I could, I would destroy Ann anyway. I knew that I could fuck other women, and not feel even slightly guilty. That I could look into her trusting eyes and lie my ass off without remorse. I am ashamed of myself looking back, not because I did it, but because I thought I wouldn't. I made the fatal mistake of believing my own bullshit. Kathryn was right, as usual. God, you have _no fucking idea _how much I hate that about her. The slut isn't above gloating, either.

We are alike, Kathryn and I. Two of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I am Pestilence and she is War. I infect every woman I fuck with longing, longing to somehow keep me in her bed because she has, probably for the first time in her life, and maybe even the only time, had a man who knew how to touch her, how to please her, who could play their bodies like an instrument and bring them to the very height of ecstasy. Most men were selfish sexually, and had no idea that just because he was getting off didn't mean that she was and often didn't even care. Never mind that they would end up being a bad experience at worst and forgettable at best. I don't like being forgotten. Consequently each one of my conquests hoped that she would be the one to turn the sex god into a good boy. That her cunt would somehow have magical powers and would save me from evil ways, purify my black heart and make me stay with her forever in gratitude. That she will be the one to avoid the fate of every one of my conquests before her – being thoroughly fucked, pleased, sated and then casually dumped as if she meant nothing. Because she didn't. I'm fully aware that I should feel horrible when I make that admission, but I don't. I take great pride in the fact that I can make almost any woman crave me even if she'd never had a taste. Even War.

Kathryn simply destroys everything in her path with her brilliant mind, her poisonous tongue or her tight cunt. Her mind is a dark, dangerous, twisted place, full of sharp edges and elaborate plots. It was a secret place into which only I was allowed admittance. Her heart was made of ice, but it still existed. It was still vulnerable, but only to a very few people. I was one of them, even though it took me a pathetically long time to realize it. Have you ever been inside an igloo? They're actually warm, even cozy, despite being made of ice. That's my Kathryn. A delightfully dangerous paradox that only I knew. Now, if ever there was a cunt that had magical powers, it would have to be hers. I've seen her reduce men twice our age to begging for just one more fuck. She could make any man beg. Even Pestilence. We made each other weak and stronger at the same time. We have become dependent on each other, some might even say addicted. Famine and Death weren't the only ones who rode together.

Kathryn, my beautiful destroyer of lives and ruination of men, froze me out while I was with Ann and I didn't even have the vicarious thrill of watching her lay waste to those who unknowingly provoked her. The havoc she could be causing unseen all around me drove me to distraction. There were times when I lay awake thinking about it, wondering what poor bastard she was in the process of destroying, and why she wasted herself on men who could never seemed able to satisfy her. I would think that she had some sort of sexual dysfunction, but I always make her cum just fine. I have no illusions that I have the power to miraculously make a woman cum if she's incapable of having orgasms at all. So the only answer was that the guys she was fucking must be totally incompetent.

You see where I'm headed, don't you? I missed the teasing, the fucking head games. I missed the times when she would get me all hot and bothered and then just leave me hanging (do I really have to say it again? haven't you been paying attention at all?) because I'm completely. fucked. up. I hated her for making me miss her, even though logically I knew that it wasn't really her fault. I was just like all those hypocrites who never shoulder their fair share of the blame for their own destruction.

When I started my seduction of Kathryn and fucked those other women, I fell into the refuge of the 'decent' and tried to justify myself. I told myself that it was just a necessary evil to trick the bitch, but the truth is that I was tired of suppressing my natural tendencies. I don't mean sleeping around, I mean having someone in my bed that could satisfy my baser desires, who would enjoy it if it occasionally hurt a little, who wouldn't freak out if things got a little rough, who would be open to a bit of kinkiness. Not being blind, and being blessed (some would question if it was by heaven or hell) with far more intuition then is good for any woman I come into contact with, I could see how what I was doing wore on Ann. I hated the thought of tainting her any more then I already had. So I dumped someone out of selflessness for the first time in my life. But she saw it coming. Ann isn't stupid.

Why would I leave someone like Ann for someone like Kathryn? You can't understand if you've never met a woman like Kathryn. You'll never find another Kathryn because if there is a god, then he didn't just break the mold when he made her. In a fit of utter panic when he realized what he'd wrought, he burned it and scattered its ashes to the four winds. Before you say it, I'm well aware that he probably did the same thing with mine.

While I loved Ann, while a part of me will always love her, while to this very day I cherish what I had with her and probably always will, I cannot live without Kathryn. And although I was happy with Ann there were times when she frankly bored me. During those times I would want to scream from the sheer tedium of trying to maintain a normal relationship. She wasn't cutting me like Kathryn. She was suffocating me. You see, I'm not the type to go around staring adoringly into a woman's eyes for hours on end. I didn't give a fuck about volunteer work, or 'giving back' to the community. Writing a check was about as much enthusiasm as I could muster for 'good causes.' Eventually, it became painfully obvious to me that we didn't have much in common, and I soon came to dread those moments when we were together anytime we weren't either having sex or laughing. You know, those serious moments that all couples have. That's what I hadn't counted on when I chose her over Kathryn – the mundane, the every day. Real life.

Kathryn though… there is nothing mundane about being with Kathryn. If I am the sex god – in addition to being Pestilence, of course – then she is the sex goddess. The things she does to me with those tiny hands and the sexy little mouth… I think that I have finally found a woman that I could fuck for a hundred years and never get grow tired of. It's not just the fucking, though. We laugh now, really laugh, in a way that I didn't think was possible for us. After all, that was the first thing that happened with Ann that made me start to fall for her – she made me laugh in a way that no one had before. Not in mockery or derision, but just honest laughter. I never thought Kathryn could give me that, but she does. Not often, but enough. I'm not naturally a jovial man anyway. Too much silliness and I might be tempted to throttle someone.

And the way Kathryn's mind works is a wondrous thing to behold. The way she makes connections and plans and contingencies. The way she remembers facts and calculates odds and assesses weaknesses in a fucking instant. It is truly awe inspiring. She's the only person who I'd freely admit is as intelligent and cunning as I am. Even though the bitch wouldn't crack open a book if it were coated in cocaine. Oh well. We all have our faults. But there is something else. There is a vulnerability in her that cuts at me almost as much as our peculiar brand of love does. I find myself wondering what made her this way, what froze her, what wounded her so deeply that she became this complex, evil, wonderful, bitchy, brilliant, coke whore. This enigma that I love trying to decipher. I know there's something, and that it was probably horrible. Sometimes I'm not sure that I want to know, though. What would I do with the knowledge? Would I go out and fuck up the bastards who hurt her? Possibly. Probably. I know that I want to protect her, even though I probably need protecting from her. Who would win in a pitched battle? Pestilence or War? I have a strong suspicion that neither of us would survive. Hopefully I'll never find out.

I have come dangerously close to believing in soul mates and uttering trite nonsense like, 'she completes me,' and 'she's _the one_.' It was easy to say all that with Ann, because I was pretending to be someone else. Someone who actually uttered that shit and meant it. But this is the real me again. Sebastian fucking Valmont, sex god of the Upper Eastside, patron saint of players. The one man on earth who could seduce the Queen of Ice Hearted Bitches and keep her wanting more just as much as she keeps me wanting more. You don't have to say it. I know. I'm a fucking chump.


	16. Deconstruction

**Chapter 15  
Deconstruction**

"Sebastian!"

"Hmmm?" Sebastian sat up groggily. He saw her sitting at his desk, a familiar look in her eyes that woke him up instantly. He got up and went to her, peering over her shoulder. She was looking at the file Tuttle had given them. She'd found a crack, the thing that they would exploit to destroy their enemy.

"Look at these financial statements. He's moving a lot of money."

"How the fuck did Tuttle get his bank statements?"

"Don't know. Don't care."

"What do you think it is? Prostitution? Gambling?"

"Whatever it is, it's not stamp collecting," she said with a small malicious smile.

He noticed that she was only wearing a very loosely closed robe. He sat on the edge of the desk, enjoying the tension of wanting her but not allowing himself to touch her. There would be time for that later. They had to plan the destruction of a life first. "How far are we going with this?"

"Are you having moral objections, darling?"

He hesitated for a split second. Had she just called him darling? He smiled at her. "No. I want to inflict as much damage on him as possible. I want him huddled in a fucking alley somewhere for the next twenty years replaying over and over in his mind the exact moment that he realizes it was us who did him in."

She smiled and bite her bottom lip. "Damn, you're sexy when you're being an evil bastard."

He pulled her hand from his thigh with a slight smile. "Now, now, my gorgeous slut. We have a lot of planning to do. Where's that much vaunted Merteuil self-control?" He laughed at her pout. "Don't worry… I'll gladly fuck your evil little brains out the instant we've decided the next stop."

* * *

"My god," Tuttle said as he gapped at them. "You really are evil! That's just sick… and wrong… and I _like it_. It makes me feel kinda dirty," he concluded with a goofy grin, looking and sounding even more gay then usual. "Does that mean I'm going to hell too?"

Kathryn rolled her eyes. "You're a fucking drug dealer, you stupid queer. You were well on your way long before our evil plans polluted you."

Tuttle made a face at her. "Immoral bitch."

She smiled and said with a smug playfulness, "flattery will get you nowhere."

Sebastian pushed his sunglasses up his nose, a small amused smirk on his face as he listened to the back and forth between his two favorite people. He glanced over at Kathryn – there was something indefinably sexy about the way she crossed her toned legs – before turning his attention back to his best friend. "Can you get us what we need?"

"Of course I can," he said, offended by the question. "Just who do you think I am?"

* * *

"We have a few hours before our appointment."

Sebastian looked up at Kathryn from his journal. She stood next to his chair, idly fingering a glass paperweight. She was wearing one of his shirts, something he never got tired of seeing. "What do you suggest we do to pass the time," he asked, feigning indifference and already suspecting the answer.

She sat on the corner of his desk and the shirt rode up her legs invitingly. "Oh, I don't know, I'm sure we can think of something."

For his part, Sebastian was only thinking of one thing. "Unbutton the shirt."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Unbutton it." He tapped his pen against his teeth as he watch in mild surprise as she obeyed with a naughty little smile on her face. Kathryn was never obedient. She began to slip it off her shoulders but he stopped her. "I just want it unbuttoned."

He used the pen to arrange the shirt just the way he wanted, pulling it back on her shoulders and leaving it parted only slightly. He could feel his erection straining against his pants. Kathryn had to be the sexist woman alive.

"That's _all_ you want? Just to look at me," she asked, her voice sexy and teasing.

He frowned at her. "You know better than that. That's never all I want. But patience is a virtue you should really try to learn. It can make things much more enjoyable in the end."

He looked at her silently for a few minutes, studying her like one of his pictures, feeling himself ach for her, but he didn't touch her. She sat there, still as a statue, watching him with an unreadable expression in her eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her stomach, his mouth slightly open and the tip of his tongue brushing against her smooth skin. He felt her hands on his head and pushed them away. He looked up at her, his face stern. "Now, now, Kitty Kat," he said, using the nickname he sometimes insisted on teasingly calling her in private because she moved with such feline grace, "no touching. You're my toy today."

She glared at him and looked like she wanted to slap him. "Bastard," she spat at him.

He laughed as he stood up and positioned himself between her legs. "_I_ was _your_ toy yesterday. Wasn't I a good toy?" His voice was sexy, sultry, almost hypnotic. The voice that had bent hundreds of women to his will. He slid a finger tip inside her, just inside her opening and messaging gently, teasing her. "Didn't I let you play with me any way you wanted?"

She shuddered. "Yessss," she hissed softly as she closed her eyes and tried to shove her hips foreword to force his finger in deeper, but he moved it back.

"If you ever want me to let you do that again, then I suggest you reciprocate. Be my fuck toy, baby." He kissed her temple. "My plaything." He kissed her jaw. "My pet." He licked her neck, while teased her, once again dipping only the tip of her finger inside of her, pinching and tugging the lips of her cunt, but avoiding her clit. She was so wet, so hot. It was taking all his self-control not to just stop playing with her and give her exactly what she wanted. But what he said was true – it would be much more enjoyable his way for both of them. He looked down at her and saw the struggle in her eyes. "You know you want to."

"Okay," she said, the tone of her voice tinged with apprehension.

He merely smiled. He knew she wouldn't regret it. He'd make sure she didn't. "How is it that I know every part of your body by heart, but I still feel like I'm playing with a shiny new toy?" He slid his finger in deeper suddenly, before she could respond, quickly finding and stroking her pleasure point. Her mouth opened but no sound came out as she shuddered. He pulled his finger out abruptly and she let out a small, disappointed moan. "Do you have any idea how much I love the way you smell? The way you taste? The way you feel?" He ran his wet finger along her mouth, coating her lips.

"You're going to be merciless, aren't you, you perverted fucker?" She tried to sound annoyed, but he could hear the excitement in her voice.

He kissed her deeply, enjoying her taste, before answering. "Of course," he murmured against her lips. "Merciless is what we do best."

* * *

"I know it's necessary but…" Sebastian's voice trailed off. They were in a hotel waiting to set their plan into motion. Two goons that Tuttle used when the need arose for a little rough housing – both in and out of bed, Sebastian guessed by the way they seemed far more interested in his ass then Kathryn's – were standing on either side of the couch where Kathryn sat like a queen holding court. Sebastian loved it when she was imperious, which as pretty much all the time. "It just feels wrong."

"We can change that part of the plan." A definite sign that she didn't want him to do it any more then he did. Kathryn was never so cavalier about changing a plan once it had been made.

"We can't. He nearly destroyed us. This is the part that's the most personal, that will haunt him the most."

"We can get someone else to do it."

He sighed. He didn't like being in the position of arguing for the necessity of something that he so desperately didn't want to do. It ran contrary to his nature. "We've already been over this. I'm the only one we can trust to pull it off. Besides, we have things timed just right. We can't afford to fuck with the details." He wasn't bragging. They both knew that he was the best at what he did, and if their plan was going to work they needed his particular skills. It was the first time that either of them had ever bulked at the idea of him using sex to bring someone down. That was, after all, what their games were usually about. Seducing people into their own downfalls. Using their own weaknesses and lusts against them. More often then not sex was involved in some way or another. Before they could discuss it any further there was a knock at the door. Sebastian went to open it.

The man who walked in looked like someone that central casting sent when a stock gangster type was requested. He took a quick look around before entering. Sebastian could sense the overconfidence in him and smiled. He knew exactly how nonthreatening he looked and liked being underestimated. It made it easier to fuck someone over. That cold, slightly condescending smile made the thug a little hesitant for an instant, especially since it was the only display of anything approaching emotion on the younger man's impassive face. "Mr. Merteuil? Trying to impress your girlfriend?" The man had a thick Bronx accent, furthering the stereotype that was obviously his sad existence.

"I'm Sebastian," he said casually, his mask of boredom firmly in place. "That," he pointed at Kathryn where she sat calmly, regarding the loan shark with cold eyes and a face chiseled out of stone, "is _Ms_. Merteuil."

It had already been decided that Kathryn would be the 'alpha' in this scenario. They had found it useful to make people they dealt with think that one of them was dominant, just to give the toy a target should they decide to get cute and try to attack what they assumed was the weaker link.

The loan shark regarded her silently. "So, what would a lady like you want to meet with a chump like me for?"

Sebastian raised a delicate looking, naturally arched eyebrow in detached amusement. Was this knuckle dragging ape trying to be charming? He exchanged a look with Kathryn and saw laughter flash in her eyes for an instant.

Kathryn regarded him silently for a few long seconds, long enough to make the man uncomfortable. "I believe that Jonathan Mathews owes you a rather large sum of money."

His eyes narrowed. "What if he does?"

"I have a proposition for you."

"Which is?"

"I want you to loan him more money."

"And why, exactly, would I do that," he asked, clearly amused.

"Because I'm going to pay all his outstanding loans, and cover the new one."

"You'd do this because?"

A vicious smile slowly spread across her face. "Let's just say I owe him."

"So you want me to just waltz up to him and hand him a stack of cash, and say surprise, it's your lucky day?"

"I'm sure you can be more subtle then that." Sebastian rolled his eyes at that statement. Subtle. Yeah, right. This chump, as he so aptly described himself, was obviously capable of about as much subtlety as a jackhammer. "Convince him that you believe in his ability to turn things around. One last chance, so to speak. He's probably getting very desperate to come up with the money to cover his debits."

"But he's paid about half of it already, and you're covering him for the rest."

A cloud passed through her beautiful green eyes at the thought of just how he'd managed to pay off half his debt. "A fact I don't want him to know."

He smiled, finally understanding what she was after. "Oh, I see. How much do you want me to give him?"

She got up and walked slowly towards him. Sebastian felt himself stiffen as he watched her. She was like a panther stalking its prey. "Enough to end up floating in the East River when he loses it all and can't pay."

"You want him dead?"

"No," she said softly, her voice coldly seductive, with an edge of danger. She touched him, with just a finger at the top of his collar bone, running it down his chest and stopping at his waist. "That would be too easy." She began walking around him, never breaking physical contact. She stopped when she was behind him and stood on her toes so that she could whisper in his ear, her body pressed against his back. "You can do anything else to him you want, just as long as you don't actually kill him. Make him so desperate to pay you back that he would sale his daughter on a fucking street corner to do it."

"Me? You'll own his debt."

She pulled away and walked to the bar, pouring herself a glass of vodka. The thug looked like he wanted to follow her. He watched her mouth as she took a sip and licked her lip. Sebastian smirked. She had him eating out of her hand in less the five minutes. "I'll pay you thirty percent to collect," she was saying, her eyes cold, aloof and mysterious. The Ice Queen. The Alpha Bitch. "Hell, if this all goes off according to plan, I might let you kept the whole damn thing."

"You must really hate him."

"You have no fucking idea." She enunciated each word slowly, her anger turning them into sharp shards of steel.

He laughed. "You got a nice pair on you, sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart," she with mock sweetness that managed to hold an edge of a threat.

He studied her for a second, looking like he wanted to throw her on the bed. "You'll forgive me for being a bit skeptical, but since I can't exactly sue you for breach of contract, I'm going to need the money upfront."

She looked at Sebastian for the first time since the exchanged look earlier. He silently picked up the duffle bag and put it on the coffee table. "Small, unmarked bills," he said simply as he watched the thug unzip it. "It should be more then enough."

Once the loan shark counted the money – which seemed to take forever – and left, followed soon after by the goons, Sebastian pulled Kathryn into a kiss. "I love watching you work. You're such a twisted bitch." He pinched her nipple through her clothes and she gasped.

She grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head roughly to the side and ran her tongue along his neck. He shuddered at the combination of her wet tongue and her hot breath. "You weren't jealous?"

He gently twisted her nipple and watched her face as she sucked in a breath through her slightly parted lips. "I wanted to break his fucking neck for looking at you like that. But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate how damn good you are." He leaned forward and gently trapped her bottom lip between his, sucking it into his mouth.

"I thought I was bad."

He could feel her hand sliding down towards his rapidly stiffening cock. "You're fucking evil."

They didn't make it the six feet to the bed until their third try.

* * *

Jonathan Mathews couldn't believe his good fortune. His loan shark had given him a chance to redeem himself. He knew he could make good on it. He sat at the black jack table of his favorite gambling establishment sipping a gin and tonic and trying to get into the grove. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he started winning again, and winning big.

That's when she sat next to him, wearing a hot pink dress that looked like it had been spray painted on. Her long brown hair was worn up, cascading down in lose curls on one side and making a striking contrast to her pale skin. There was something about the way she moved, so confident and self-possessed. There was also something familiar about her that he couldn't quit place. She turned to look at him and he felt pierced by her cool green eyes. There was something sexy and mysterious about those eyes.

"Hello," she said in a voice that matched her eyes.

For the next hour, she was like the devil on his shoulder, offering just the right encouragement to make him keep going. At first he was winning, but suddenly, his luck changed. Before he knew what had happened, all his money was gone.

"Well… seems like you have a problem," she said coldly before gaving him a scorching kiss. Fire and ice. He kissed her back, his wife forgotten as his body reacted to this beautiful woman. Even the deep shit he was suddenly in after blowing his last chance was forgotten. She was the kind of woman that he thought only existed in movies or fantasies. She pulled away and touched his face gently. "I would offer to make you feel better, but unfortunately for you…" she pulled his hands off her waist – how had they gotten there, he wondered – and he could see the poison in her eyes, "I don't fuck losers." She started to walk away, when she stopped and turned back as if she'd suddenly remembered something. "Oh, and I'd hurry home if I were you. Sebastian said something about visiting your wife tonight. You should know by now what a bad boy he is." Her tone was innocent, but her smile was clearly malicious. She walked away with a soft chuckle.

That's when he realized why she looked familiar. Sebastian Valmont and Kathryn Merteuil. The pictures. The next thing was worry about his wife. What were they going to do to his wife? He left, only 25 dollars to his name now, and rushed home. He tried to call, but kept getting the voice mail. By the time he opened the front door, he was frantic with worry. Then he heard it. A man's voice asking how his cock felt in a tight ass. At first he thought he was listening to porn until he realized that was his wife's voice.

* * *

Sebastian was in Jonathan Mathews' bed. More precisely, he was inside Mathews' wife. She was on her hands and knees and bucking against him. He had to admit that she felt good. Not as good as Kathryn, but then nobody compared to Kathryn. Johnny boy was supposedly on his way. He heard the door open and glanced at her trying to think through the haze of his steadily approaching orgasm… Allison? April? It was April. She didn't seem to notice.

"Does my big cock feel good in that tight ass," he asked, feeling a perverse desire to make the situation even more humiliating as he reached around and began rubbing her clit. Maybe he should have felt bad about what he was doing to April, but she was the one cheating on her husband with what she thought was some random teenaged boy. In her husband's bed no less. No, he didn't feel particularly sorry for April. Of course, it would be entirely his fault when she learned he planned it. As if planning it justified dropping your drawers and letting someone you've never seen before shove his cock up your ass.

"Yes, oh god, yes! You feel so good!" He smiled at how vocal she was as she came. But he was waiting for something else before he let himself go. He pumped into her a few times, and then he saw what he was waiting for. Jonathan Mathews standing in his doorway staring in disbelief as Sebastian fucked his wife. Sebastian came groan, his eyes locked on Mathews'. He let go of April, who collapsed on the bed.

"I was wondering if you'd show up in time for the grand finale," Sebastian said cheerfully. That's when April noticed her husband. She screamed and tried to cover herself. Sebastian laughed. "I think he's seen all that already. Unless, of course, you two fuck with the lights off."

He got out of bed casually and took off the condom he was wearing, leaving it carelessly on the floor. He began to quickly get dressed, a skill he'd acquired from the necessity of leaving in a hurry when a boyfriend or husband returned home at an inopportune time, as he watched Mathews from the corner of his eye. It wouldn't do to get sucker punched by the bastard. April was babbling something about it not being what he thought. Sebastian wondered if that was the best she could come up with after being caught in the act.

"Why?" Mathews' voice sounded strangled.

Sebastian looked up at him as he zipped his pants. The guy seemed dazed. "Why? Because you fucked my family. I thought I'd show you how it feels."

"They were just pictures!"

"Just pictures?!" Sebastian felt his temper getting the better of him as he put his shirt on. He strode towards Mathews and grabbed him by the collar, throwing him against the door frame. "Do you know what you almost did to Kathryn?" He remembered the look on her face when her mother called her a slut, and how she didn't even defend herself. That broken look on her face. How she'd locked him out that night. How lost she looked when he awoke to find her in his bed. He could very well have lost her forever, because this stupid fuck couldn't bring himself to walk away from a game of poker. "What you almost did to us?"

"I just… I didn't… I needed the money," he said in a child like voice.

"You're fucking pathetic," Sebastian spat as he let the man go and began to walk out and nearly ran smack into the youngest Mathews, Jennifer. Sixteen and delectable from what Sebastian recalled. He had been so preoccupied that he hadn't heard her come in. She smiled when she saw him.

"Are you here to see me, Sebastian?"

He rolled his eyes. "No. I was spending a little _quality time_ with your mother." He didn't break stride, but he saw the look on her face as she began to realize what he meant. There was screaming now, coming from the bedroom. He smirked and slid on his sunglasses, knowing it was only the beginning.

"You bastard," he heard Mathews' voice behind and turned to find a gun pointed at him. His smirk froze on his face.

"Well, fuck me sideways. I didn't see _that_ coming," he said, sounding mildly annoyed with himself, just before Mathews pulled the trigger.

* * *

_A/N: I edited chapters 12 & 13. You might want to go check out the additions and I bolded them so you can find them easily. The new info in chapter 12 is especially important._

_**Kaila**, thank for reviewing. Hopefully this should be more your speed…_

_I have read your old stuff, **SalvaVeritate**. I enjoyed it, but I understand your feelings. I hate my own early writing too. Anyway, thanks for the kudos. I try really hard to be true to who S&K are. I loved your Conner, though he never quite took Sebastian's place in my heart (despite those times when I just wanted to smack him upside the head)._

_**bbymojo**, that's really high praise. I've seen some really good fics on here. Anyway, there are at least three more chapters left and a sequel will be in the works shortly thereafter._

_-Angie_


	17. Godmother

**Chapter 16  
Godmother**

Kathryn was pacing as she waited in her bedroom. She didn't know what was taking so long. She jumped at the sound of sirens close by. What if that bastard hurt him? She should have insisted on coming along, but realized as soon as she thought it that she couldn't have. She had to make sure that Mathews gambled recklessly enough to lose quickly and let Sebastian know when he was on his way.

She tried to keep her mind occupied, tried to think of the next step in their plan, but she could think of nothing except for Sebastian laying somewhere bleeding. She was turning into such a… girl, she thought in disgust. Pacing nervously, waiting for her man to get home was something she never thought she'd be doing in a million years. She picked up her extension, but slammed it down after talking herself out of dialing his cell phone. He didn't need her distracting him. Sebastian had to be on top of his game, had to be sharp. He couldn't have his stupid girlfriend interfering. Or he really could get hurt. She sighed in frustration as she looked across the park and over the townhouses at the apartment building the Mathews' lived in. Where was that damn siren coming from?

* * *

Jonathan Mathews sat slumped over in a chair, staring into space. The police had arrived. Either his wife or his daughter had called them when he ran after the boy. Protecting their lover, he thought as his stomach turned. What had he done? What would he tell the police? He kept seeing that smug bastard screwing his wife, in his bed. It was like he was waiting for him, wanting him to walk in on them. Who does something like that? Then his Jennifer, his baby girl, came rushing in, hysterical. She was screaming at her mother. He didn't get it at first, until he heard her say something about Sebastian being her first. That smug little shit had sex with his daughter too? The images were too much for him and he began trembling.

Something about the fact that his life had just been turned upside down in a matter of hours by a couple of teenagers, barely older than his own daughter, just made him snap. He wasn't normally a violent person. He had never wished anyone dead in his entire life. Sure, he'd done some questionable things to get by but nothing really bad. In that instant he had wanted Sebastian Valmont dead. Without thinking he took the gun from the bureau. His wife was screaming for him to come back. He ignored her as he rushed out of the room.

He said something that made the boy turn around just as he'd reached the door to the apartment. The smug smile froze on his face when he saw the gun. He said something about not seeing that coming as Mathews squeezed the trigger and… nothing. Nothing happened other than a hallow clicking sound. The younger man merely smiled wider and winked over the top of his sunglasses while Mathews squeezed the trigger again and again, becoming more frantic, even shaking the gun at him as if the bullets were just stuck would shake loose. Finally, he just threw the gun but by the time it reached its destination, Sebastian had already opened the door and nonchalantly walked out. The gun hit the closing door so hard that it left an imprint. He stared at the door for a moment before sitting heavily in the living room. That's where he still was when the police arrived, slumped in a chair. If he couldn't pay back his loan shark… he was dead. Right now, though, death didn't seem like such a bad thing.

* * *

"How much did he have left?"

She whirled around to see Sebastian standing in the doorway smiling at her. She hid her relief under a mask of indifference.

"Twenty five dollars," she said with a smirk.

He returned her smile. "Good. I would have preferred a couple of pennies and some lint. But that's more then close enough."

"Did everything go according to plan?"

"Like always. And please don't bring up Annette again. That was an anomaly which I would really appreciate not hearing about for the next twenty five years. I need to take a shower, get the stench of middle aged slut off me."

"I'll join you," she crossed over to him and took his hand, slipping her fingers between his.

"You saved my life, by the way."

"How," she asked, sounding puzzled as they walked into her bathroom.

"You suggested that I make sure to take the firing pen out of the son of a bitch's gun when we broke into the apartment to make sure we didn't have any surprises."

"He pulled it on you," she asked, sounding angry.

"Yes. Shocked the hell out of me. I really didn't think he had it in him." He shrugged. "I hadn't counted on his daughter showing up. She probably let it slip that I sort of popped her cherry a year and a half ago and that just sent the bastard right over the edge. But it's okay… we're almost finished with him."

She snickered. "God Valmont. It would probably be easier if we started counting all the women in New York that you haven't fucked."

He left a careless trail of clothes in his wake as he headed for the shower. She turned on the shower for him, testing the temperature. It was something that he always did for her when she took a bath and she noticed the way he watched her and smiled. She sensed that he didn't really want to touch her yet and she felt an irrational stab of fear – had he enjoyed having April Mathews more than he enjoyed having her? She sat in the chaise in her bathroom as she watched him wash himself. He was so beautiful, she thought, even as she knew that she couldn't tell him that. After he rinsed off the soap, he looked at her and smiled, beaconing her to come join him. He watched her appreciatively as she undressed.

When she got in, he pulled her tightly against him. She ran her fingers through his wet hair. He wouldn't look directly in her eyes and she realized suddenly that he felt guilty. Sebastian Valmont felt guilty for fucking another woman. Normally she would have teased him and called him a pussy, but something stranger than his guilt happened. The need to make him feel better, to take away his pain overcame her. "It's okay," she whispered in his ear. His strong hands cupped her ass and lifted her up and as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He lowered her onto his erection.

"I only want you," he said hoarsely as he pressed her against the shower wall.

"I know. It's okay," she repeated as she held him tightly. "I'm yours."

His head snapped up suddenly and he stopped moving inside her, obviously shocked. "Say that again."

She smiled and stroked the side of his face. "I'm yours, Sebastian. I'm not jealous, because I know your mine. Now stop being such a pussy and fuck me."

* * *

The final step in their plan to destroy Jonathan Mathews, or what was left of him, was public embarrassment. Kathryn and Sebastian decided that it was perhaps more important to neutralize him. He had already tried to kill Sebastian once and he knew where they lived. If he had even less to lose, there was no telling what he'd do next.

They sat at the table of the restaurant where they were due to meet Mathews in half an hour enjoying a comfortable silence.

"Kathryn?"

She looked away from the window she'd been staring out of to find him watching her thoughtfully. "Yes?"

"Am I the only man that has managed to make you cum?"

She blinked at him silently for a moment. She hadn't been expecting that question. "Why? Does your ego need a little massaging darling?"

He smiled slightly, the way he always did when she called him darling. "No. I was just remembering something you told me. You said you enjoyed sex. But I know that whenever I've overheard you with other men I've never actually heard you climax. I just wondered…"

"How can enjoyment be possible if I didn't cum," she finished for him nonchalantly. "Doesn't sex feel good for you before you cum? There have been times when I couldn't feel anything at all except during sex." That wasn't completely true, but she wasn't sure that she was ready to look that deeply into her motivations. She had felt fear, and pain, and shame. She always felt those things. Sex offered a way to drown those things out. What she'd revealed already was enough of a revelation, though.

Before Sebastian, she had been stifled in her gender, her place in society, the demands of her mother. Then suddenly she had a stepsibling. An irrepressibly inappropriate, charming, intelligent, intuitive boy who was so much like she was underneath all the masks and good girl routine that she had been immediately intrigued. He'd read her like a book, understood her in a way no one else ever had almost from the moment he met her. He had become her playmate, and their games had become increasingly more sophisticated and malicious, as if they fed off each other's cruelty. They were equals, kindred spirits.

Sebastian let her know that he wanted her in his bed within moments of meeting her and deciding that she was definitely not another vacuous debutant. As the years passed, she came to realize that what he felt for her was more than simple lust. He was too possessive, too jealous of her toys. She knew instinctively that he had come to love her, or as close to it as he could muster, even if he'd never come out and say it. And she thought he knew that she felt the same way about him. They were just both too smart to let their feelings get the best of them. Or so she had thought, until Annette. Everything came back to that bitch, didn't it? That had been the first time either of them had so much as hinted at the feelings they had for each other, when Kathryn had accused him of not loving her anymore. She kissed him, ready to give him what she'd denied him all those years, and he laughed in her face. Called her ridiculous. She closed her eyes at the memory.

"I always knew we'd be good together," he said, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I still can't believe that we managed to get passed last summer. Neither of us is exactly the forgive and forget type."

"Do you still love her?" She knew that he'd understand who she meant.

"Mathews is coming." He seemed relieved to not have to answer the question and Kathryn felt her jaw tighten.

Jonathan Mathews was at their table seconds later. Sebastian told him to sit.

"How are April and Jenny," Sebastian asked cheerfully, a pleasant smile on his face. Mathews said nothing and merely glared at him. Calmly and dispassionately, Sebastian began explaining his new reality to the man. "I know you're probably wondering why we invited you here. We own your debt to that greasy little loan shark you borrowed money from-"

"What the hell-"

"Mathews! No interruptions," Sebastian snapped sternly, anger flashing in his eyes for a split second before being replaced by his patented disinterested contempt. "As I was saying, we own your debt. Now if you want to avoid floating in the East River, or working off your debt in some… interesting ways, you need to be a good boy. I'm already a little upset with you over the whole gun thing. That was a very naughty thing to do. Had you succeeded in shooting me, you would have had to deal with Kathryn."

"And I," Kathryn hissed, "would have ripped out your fucking heart with my bare hands." She smiled coldly at when the older man flinched at the threat. She hoped that he understood that she truly meant it. Nobody threatened Sebastian.

"So, as you can see, you're actually the lucky one in that scenario."

"Fine," the older man said quietly and looked away in defeat. "What do you want from me?"

"We'll call off the apes. But first you still have to pay what you owe. We'll set up a generous payment plan, and we expect you to pay on time. If you don't, then they'll be paying you regular visits again. Breaking things, cutting things off. You know the drill. But don't worry. With the interest rate and all, it'll only take you 20 years to pay off your debt. Secondly, if anything happens to either of us, we've left our friendly neighborhood goons strict instructions to hurt you. Repeatedly and severely. That's if you don't leave one of us with the ability to get to you first. Mark my words, Mathews, you make any moves against us and we'll finish what we started. You'll have nothing, _be_ nothing. Finally, there are the favors."

"Favors?"

"Yes. You will do whatever we ask, whenever we ask without question or hesitation."

"What types of things," he asked apprehensively.

Sebastian smiled again. "Whatever the hell our sick, twisted and incredibly fertile minds come up with."

* * *

"You never answered my question."

Sebastian sighed as he parked her car in the garage. He had obviously hoped that she would forget. She always made him do the actual driving no matter which car they took. Sebastian complained, loudly, but when she finally asked him if it really bothered him he said that he didn't mind. One could never have too much of a good thing. She hadn't been sure if he meant the cars, her or both. "I'm with you, Kathryn. I'm completely with you. I don't sneak off to brood about Annette. Did you see more than a couple of entries and brief references about her in my journal? I don't fantasize about what life would be like with her. I don't regret walking away from her."

"I thought she walked away from you."

He snorted. "When have you ever known a woman to walk away from me when I didn't want her too? If I still wanted her, I'd still have her."

Kathryn scowled at him. He was right, of course. Men had left her before, but she'd never seen a woman dump him. And she was afraid that even included her now. What was it he'd said that day he came to collect on their last bet? Men really did seem to leave her for the innocent twits. Hell, he'd done it himself.

"The only woman I've never been able to walk away from, really walk away from, is you. When I was with Annette… I couldn't stop thinking about you. Wondering what you were doing. _Who_ you were doing. It drove me fucking insane. The idea that you didn't need me was unbearable. You have no idea how many times I had to stop myself from walking into your room and begging you to just talk to me, to tell me what you'd done that day. I would look at the pictures of you sleeping…" He closed his eyes and she wondered if he was embarrassed by the depth of his need the way she was of hers.

She touched him, running her fingers through the soft hair on the nap of his neck. "It's okay."

He smiled at her. "Let me finish, Kitty Kat. I don't miss Annette. Sometimes I feel like I should, but I don't. I have a soft spot for her and I don't want to see anything bad happen to her, but that's the extent of it."

Kathryn pouted. "Does that mean you would be peeved if I destroyed her?"

He laughed. "Yes, you can say that I would be peeved. It's not her you should be angry with, Kat. It's me. I'm the one who hurt you."

"From what you say, hurting her is the best way to hurt you."

He looked at her seriously for a moment. "No, it's not. It would royally piss me off to have you ruin Annette. But to be perfectly honest with you, I'd get over it. Probably much quicker then I'd like. The best way to hurt me would be…" He leaned towards her, suddenly intense. "If you ever walked away from me, it would fucking _end_ me, Kathryn. It was hell the first time. When I fell in love with Annette, I thought that I could have you both. That you would still be mine in the only way that you ever let me have you. I didn't think my loving someone else would hurt you. But when you called me a toy, when you sent Ronald after me, and then just shut me out after the accident, I felt like I had lost half of what made me who I was. After these past few months with you, I don't know where I end and you begin anymore. If you left me now, if you shut me out again, there would be nothing left of me."

She was shocked to realize that he had just described exactly how she felt. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she stared at him. "That's the one thing I could never do," she said finally, pulling him into a kiss. He began trailing kisses down her neck. "You know, it's been a few weeks."

"Since?"

"Since we fucked in my car."

"Really? I think we should remedy that."

* * *

Kathryn rolled her eyes at the stupid girl in front of her, going on about how her parents would send her to a methadone clinic after finding out that she'd been using cocaine. They were sitting in the upstairs living room where Kathryn normally brought people who came to ask advice or pour their hearts out to her and often beg for her assistance – holding court, Sebastian had mockingly called it. Of course the girl had been too distracted by her obvious distress to notice Kathryn's annoyance and by the time she focused on her again, the latter had a mask of kind concern firmly in place.

"They send you to methadone clinics for opiates like heroin or morphine, not cocaine," Kathryn said, careful to keep the dryness out of her voice.

The girl looked at her skeptically and Kathryn suppressed another eye roll, opting to smile sweetly instead. "Are you sure."

She patted the girl's hand reassuringly, figuring that was a better move than slapping her. "Of course I am. You may have to go to rehab, but there won't be any methadone in your immediate future. Unless you _have_ been taking heroine?"

"No," the girl said adamantly. "It was just the coke. I swear. Can you help me with my parents? _Please_?"

"How do you expect me to help you, Caroline?"

"Can you just talk to them? I haven't taken anything in nearly a week. I'm jittery as hell, but I can stop. I just need a chance."

"Why would they listen to me," she asked with perfectly convincing false modesty, eyes wide and innocent, already knowing the answer but never tiring of hearing it.

"Because they listen to you. You have no idea how much influence you have beyond just your peer group."

If she had been able to be herself, her true self, she would have asked the girl if she thought Kathryn looked like the fucking Godfather to her. But instead, she pasted a fake self-deprecating smile on her face and enjoyed the fact that she did, indeed, have the power to decide this girl's fate. And probably really did have far more in common with the Godfather then the distraught girl would ever have any clue about. Maybe she should get a ring people could kiss, she thought, amused by the idea. But of course that would necessitate that they actually touch her. She pursed her lips as if she were considering the request, even as she internally cringed at the thought of all the losers that came to her for help or advice coming into any sort of physical contact with her that wasn't absolutely necessary. "Of course. I'll speak to them tonight at the benefit. In private," she added reassuringly.

"Thank you so much, Kathryn!" The girl hugged her in her enthusiasm. She looked awkward, probably because Kathryn's already ramrod straight posture stiffened at the contact. The girl left hastily and she thought she was alone when Sebastian stepped into the room through the door that connected it to the library.

"Of course I'll intervene on your behalf. That will be one pound of flesh and your first born child," he mocked. He was holding folded up newspaper, which he tapped against his leg.

"Jackass."

"Tell me, are you plotting a way to actually get her sent to the methadone clinic she seems to fear so much?"

She laughed. "Actually, no. Though screwing her over would be fun, I'm going to save the little twit. People will stop believing in my innate goodness and ability to walk on water if I don't actually help them most of the time."

"But you probably can walk on water. You are the antichrist after all." He traced the newspaper along her cleavage. "In fact, I think I detected some raised numbers on your scalp while running my fingers through your hair yesterday. Six six six, perhaps?"

"If I'm the antichrist, you must be the dragon." Who knew that those stupid religion classes they were forced to endure would come handy? If Kathryn didn't have such a sharp intellect and amazing recall, she would never be able to keep up with all of Sebastian's astoundingly diverse references. She suspected that was a large part of what kept him interested.

He sighed, bored with the conversation already. "True."

"So, are we back to stalking again, my dear perverted brother," she chided gently, her eyes dancing with dark amusement.

"No. I was just impatient. I have a surprise for you." She could see the excitement lurking behind his indifference, peeking around the corners like a mischievous child. He dropped onto the couch with barely suppressed nervous energy. Sometimes he reminded her of nothing so much as a puppy. All that excitement just underneath the surface.

"I hate surprises."

"We're not going to go through this again, are we? Because if we are, can we just skip to the fun parts?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What have you done, Sebastian?" She sounded like a mother asking a wayward child what he'd gotten himself into.

He offered her the newspaper he was holding. She glanced at him suspiciously before taking it. It took her a few minutes of staring at the headline before she could comprehend what it said. Samuel Hartwell arrested for statutory rape and kiddy porn. She sucked in a breath, grateful that she was sitting. If she hadn't been, she was sure that her knees would have buckled. Husband number two.

"You? How?"

"I have a friend who's a few weeks away from being legal. She has a thing for older men, so I just gave her a nudge in his direction. The rest just took a camera, some pedophilia smut Blain dug up for me and an anonymous tip off to the cops. I understand child molesters get special treatment in jail. I made sure that once he's convicted his cell mate will be especially… amorous."

"Friend? You don't have female friends. You don't have any friends. Just me and Blaine."

"Okay, fine. A former conquest."

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "You did all that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you. I thought we covered that already."

"I can take care of myself."

He smiled slightly. "Of course you can. But I enjoy taking care of you."

"My mother's going to have a cow when she hears about this. People will ask questions. Talk about her behind her back."

"Yes. That's part of the fun, how much she'll hate it. But all you have to do is tell the truth. You aren't a victim." She smiled at him. He knew her too well… realized that she was really wondering if anyone would guess that her previous stepfather had molested her, that she didn't want to be seen as a victim. "They'll believe you if you say nothing happened."

"What else are you planning?"

"What do you mean," he asked innocently. Sebastian sounding innocent was a sure sign that he was up to something.

"What are you going to do to my mother?" Kathryn narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why? Do you want me to leave her alone?"

"No. I just want to make sure that you aren't flinching again."

"With Tiffany? You've got to be out of your twisted little mind if you'd think I'd ever flinch with her."

She shrugged. "You've surprised me before."

"I need to figure out why my father married her before I decide how to proceed."

"A bout of temporary insanity," she offered dryly. She decided against pointing out that he might not be flinching with her mother, but he definitely was with his father. Not that she really begrudged him that. She had been protective of her mother not too long ago, hadn't she? Edward had never done anything to hurt Sebastian – other then send him to that stupid shrink and threaten to send him to military school if he got expelled again. And he had sided with them against Tiffany.

He shook his head. "It was more then that. When they were here that last time, he said something about not hurting someone you loved by cheating."

Kathryn looked at him incredulously. "And he's just figuring that out? When exactly is he going to start putting it into practice?"

Sebastian smiled. "That's just the thing. He wasn't talking about Medusa. He was talking about _my_ mother. He wants me to make sure that I don't do the same thing to you that he did to her."

"So he doesn't love my mother?"

"Exactly. So why the fuck did he marry her? He didn't have to. She's the one who wasn't exactly solvent without her rich husbands. Your father somehow managed to leave her with next to nothing. She only got a million out of the child molesting pig. If he wasn't under the impression that he loved her…"

"You don't think… blackmail?"

"That's exactly what I think. Sounds just like the gold digging bitch to me. I was going to mention it before but I got a little..." he let his eyes travel down her body in a way that made her pulse quicken and sighed, "distracted."

She fought the urge to defend her mother. She usually did when Sebastian insulted her, or at least insulted his father in return, but she reminded herself of all the things her mother had put her through and the urge passed. "What could she possibly have on him?"

"I don't know. But I need to find out."

"No… we need to find out. It's my score we're settling with Mommy Dearest, after all."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry about the torture, Natalia..._


	18. Tilt

**Chapter 17  
Tilt**

Sebastian smiled at the sight of Kathryn crawling across the bed towards him, moving with the grace of a cat stalking her pray. His Kitty Kat. When he called her that, didn't mean some nearly domesticated house cat. He meant a cougar, or a panther. She was like a thoroughly deadly, untamable creature. When their faces were inches apart, they simply regarded each other, both filled with need. She playfully ran her tongue along his lips. He closed his eyes briefly.

"I want to fuck," she said blatantly.

"You don't say? For a second, I thought you were going to ask me to play chess." A devilish grin spread across his face. He knew Kathryn hated playing chess with him because she had never managed to beat him. While throwing a game once and a while might have proven to be the better part of valor, he was too proud to lose anything on purpose. For a second he thought that she was going to hiss at him. She occasionally did, but this time she simply began to recoil. He grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her back next to him. "Where do you think you're going?" He trapped her underneath his body. "You can't just crawl into a man's bed, announce that you want to fuck and then walk out in a huff. At least," he said softly, his voice sultry, "not until you actually get fucked."

"You're such a pig, sometimes."

"I know. But it's part of why you love me." He looked down at her body, his brow furrowed in contemplation.

"What?"

"Sometimes," he said deliberately as continued his study of her body, running his fingers along her skin, enjoying the way she shuddered at his touch, "I just don't know where to start. There are so many things I want to do to this amazing body." He kissed her collar bone, the hollow of her neck, the curve between her neck and her shoulder, all the while, his fingers unbuttoned her shirt. He pulled away to look at the contrast between her delicate ivory skin and the black lacy bra she wore as he unclasped it. He slowly pulled the cups away from her firm breasts before lowering his head and licking the valley between them. He smiled when a soft moan escaped her lips.

She slipped her hands up the back of his shirt and ran her nails down his skin. He arched his back and let out a long soft hiss. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they were feline rather than canine. Two big cats who stalked and devoured their pray, who should have been solitary creatures but had somehow become bound to each other. He lowered his mouth to her breast once again, taking a nipple between his lips and sucking gently. She gripped the sheets and pressed herself against his thigh. He could feel her moist heat radiating against his skin through their clothes. He used his teeth, his tongue and his lips to slowly increase her frenzy, spending an impossibly long time on just her left breast. Finally he pulled away and slowly made his way to the second.

* * *

Brussels. That's where Edward Valmont went alone almost once a month for the past several years. It started right after his mother's suicide and had been a few times a month for the first two years. After that, it got less frequent but remained steady with at least nine or ten visits a year. The one thing that did stand out to him was the fact that every year one of the visits coincided with his mother's birthday. The thing that was most suspicious was that Tiffany occasionally went there too, but always without Edward. That's where she had gone this very morning.

"What do you think it means?" Kathryn was standing over him, her fingers in his hair.

"There's only one way to find out. We're going to Brussels," he said matter-of-factly.

"Sebastian, maybe we should hire someone."

"We will. To keep an eye on her until we get there. It will be like a mini-vacation."

"Not it won't. I know how you are when you're fixated. You're like a puppy with a new chew toy. Completely relentless. You'll obsess over whatever it is our parents are hiding, your sick and vivid imagination will come up with all sorts of scenarios. You'll be nothing but a brooding, pouting, pretty little stick in the mud. I suppose I _could_ have fun mocking you."

He turned his head to glare at her. "Bitch."

"Pussy."

He swiveled his chair around and leaned back as he studied her. "Why don't you want me to go?"

"I never said that I didn't want you to go." She sat on the edge of his desk. She was wearing one of his shirts again, and the way she was sitting there reminded him of how interesting things had become the last time he'd seen her sitting on the edge of his desk wearing one of his shirts.

He sighed as he tore his eyes from her thighs and forced his mind to stay on track. "No, you didn't. But you don't, do you?"

"I think it would be better if we hired someone to do this."

"We never have before."

"We pay Blain to find things out for us all the time."

"Just to get background. Figuring out the truth behind the facts is half the fun."

"It's just a feeling, okay? I don't know… this is something… really bad."

"Really bad? Like we'll find all the children that my father imprisons in a dungeon and uses as sex slaves?"

She laughed. "You're a sick fuck, you know that Valmont?"

"That's one of the things you love most about me. But seriously, how bad can it be?"

She folded her arms and gave him a frank look. "Bad enough to keep him married to my mother and allow her to spend all his money even though he'd clearly rather strangle her in her sleep."

He regarded her silently for a moment. She had a point there. "I have to do this myself," he said simply, hoping she'd understand.

"Fine. We'll go."

* * *

The Belgian investigator that Sebastian hired through Blaine was waiting for them at the airport. How Blaine knew a Belgian investigator was a mystery, but since he was at least as well traveled as they were and seemed able to come up with increasingly amazing amounts of information on just about anyone, it was conceivable that he had contacts all over the world. The man was painfully thin with short light brown hair that was slightly disheveled and soulful gray eyes. He conversed with Sebastian in Belgian French.

"I followed her to this address," he handed Sebastian a piece of paper with a neat precise handwriting.

"How long was she there? What kind of place is it?"

"Not long. It is a nursing home. She spoke to a nurse for a few moments, handed her a package, which I assumed to be money, and left. She went back to the airport and I watched until she boarded her flight."

"That's it?"

"Yes. I can take you to the nursing home if you like."

"Yes, please."

Sebastian exchanged a look with Kathryn as they followed him to the parking garage. It was strange indeed. Who would his father visit in a Belgium nursing home? Why would Tiffany visit the same person at different times? By the time they pulled up to their destination, he was starting to get the same feeling that Kathryn spoke of before they left the States. The home looked like a large cottage and was obviously meant to seem cozy, but it succeeded only in giving Sebastian a strange sense of foreboding.

He walked slowly to the front door, Kathryn beside him. He felt her fingers brush against his palm and he closed his fingers around her small hand. He always tried direct before he went for sneaky since you could often find out what you wanted to know just by asking, or behaving if you already knew. He went up to the front desk and said, "My name is Valmont," as if it should mean something to the nurse sitting there. Unfortunately she wasn't the one from the picture.

"Oh! My… you must be Sebastian! You're father talks about you all the time, but I was starting to think he was making you up. It's a shame that your mother likely won't recognize you. She'd be proud to see what a handsome young man you've become."

Sebastian felt as if the world suddenly tilted 180 degrees. Had she just said his mother? His mother was dead… then he remembered when his father's visits started. Right after her suicide. And he visited on Noelle's birthday every year. He cursed his brain for its ability to make rapid associations, to see the root of things so quickly. Denial was sometimes a useful refuge. It gave you time to come to terms with things. But Sebastian had no such refuge as his mind raced ahead at a rate that made him dizzy and nauseous. Had she been disabled somehow in her suicide attempt? Mentally impaired from the lack of oxygen to her brain? Why had his father let him believe all these years that she was dead? But, perhaps the most disturbing question of all was why in the hell was Tiffany paying her visits?

He heard Kathryn ask in flawless French, "He's a little nervous about it. I'm here for moral support." Trust Kathryn to not miss a beat he thought, suddenly grateful that she'd insisted on coming along. "Can we see her?"

"Of course," the nurse smiled warmly at Kathryn, and Sebastian could tell that she trusted her already. Idiot. "She's having a good day. I'll just let her know that she has some new visitors."

She walked away and left them standing there. He felt Kathryn squeeze his hand. "Are you going to be alright," she asked in English.

He nodded, already recovering, or at least hiding successfully behind his mask of indifference once again. "I'll be alright."

"We don't have to do this now. We can give everything time to sink in."

He clinched his jaw stubbornly. "I do have to do this now."

"She's excited to have someone new visit after all these years," they looked up to see the nurse returning. "I'm sure your father told you that she won't know who you are, and that you should refrain from trying to jog her memory. It upsets her when she feels like someone is expecting something from her that she just isn't capable of giving. If she gets agitated, just leave immediately and call one of us."

He followed the nurse on legs that felt like they were made of rubber. She opened a door for ushered them into a room where a woman was sitting at a table looking out the window. She still looked exactly the way he remembered her with the exception of a few wrinkles and gray hair that could barely be seen in her light blond hair. "Mama," he said softly. She turned her head and looked at him. There was nothing approaching recognition in her eyes.

"Hello," she said with a hesitant smile.

"Hello."

"Is Edward here too? I forgot to ask."

Sebastian shook his head slowly, unsure of what to do. The nurse had slipped away. "No… he's… he's not here."

"Oh. He was here last week. Are you related to him? You remind me of him a little."

"Yes, I am. My name's Sebastian Valmont," he said, hopeful that maybe that would spark some memory.

"Sebastian. I've always loved that name. I always wanted to use it if I ever had a son." The world tilted again. She didn't fucking remember him at all. Sebastian wanted to scream, shake her until her teeth rattled. How could she not remember her own son? She seemed to notice Kathryn for the first time and smiled. "Are the two of you together?"

"Yes," Kathryn spoke up and Sebastian realized that he'd forgotten all about her even though he was still holding on to her as if she were his last tie to reality. He knew he had to be crushing her tiny, fine-boned hand and forced himself to loosen his grip.

"Watch out for these Valmont men. They're lady killers."

Kathryn smiled and said, "yes. I've noticed."

"Please come in and sit down. I rarely have visitors, and no one new in years. Just Eddie and my brothers."

His uncles knew. Even that bitch Tiffany knew. Did the whole damn world know? Everyone but him? How could he have not suspected? He sat at the table, across from his mother. His mother. Was this really happening? Kathryn sat next to him. He didn't look at her, but he knew that she was watching him closely.

"Why are you here?"

She raised an eyebrow in amusement at his slightly rude question. "Eddie says that I need to be here so I won't hurt myself anymore. Or anyone else. Sometimes I… I do things. I don't really know why, and I often can't remember." She showed him her wrists, shocking him with her openness. There were scars on them, jagged and angry looking.

Sebastian took her hand and traced the scars with his thumb. He remembered finding her. She was lying on the floor of the master bedroom. There was blood everywhere. She was still conscious even though she was too weak to move, and when she saw him, this look of utter sadness washed over her face. That was the last time he'd seen her.

"Did I know you," she asked softly.

Sebastian looked at her and smiled sadly. "You used to."

"I'm sorry. There are holes in my memory. Some stretch out for years. Eddie says that it's better that I don't remember some things."

"He's probably right," Sebastian said hoarsely, trying desperately to keep his voice from breaking. He felt like he'd lost her all over again. Suddenly he understood why his father had hid her from him. He didn't want to understand. He wanted to be angry, vengeful. But he wasn't. He felt Kathryn's fingers on his scalp.

"Are you okay?" He looked up and saw his mother's brow knit in concern as she studied him.

"He lost his mother," Kathryn answered for him. He was grateful because he felt as if he wouldn't be able to hold back the tears if he spoke again too soon. "I think you remind him of her."

"I'm so sorry. My mother died when I was young. It's a very hard thing to lose your mother."

"Do you still hurt yourself," he asked.

She shrugged. "Sometimes. Not this badly though," she touched her scars gingerly. "They watch me closely here. Usually I just hear voices. See things that aren't there."

"I'm sorry."

"I must have liked you a great deal."

He laughed softly. "I like to think so."

"I'm sure I did. I can feel it."

"You used to read to me."

"Did I," she asked with a slight smile.

"You were reading _The Iliad_ before… before you had to go away. I still have some of your books." They were almost all first editions and he treasured them.

* * *

"Do you want to talk about it?"

They were laying on the bed at the hotel. Sebastian threw himself on it the moment that they arrived from the nursing home, deep in one of his moods, and Kathryn crawled in next to him. He shook his head slowly as he stared silently at the ceiling. What the fuck was there to say? His dead mother wasn't dead, and her mother had used the information to blackmail his father into marrying her.

"I'll give you a free pass to be a pussy for the rest of the day. Then I expect you to suck it up so we can do what we need to do."

He almost laughed. Only Kathryn. She was tough as nails. Tougher then him, tougher than anyone he'd ever met in his life and he loved her for it.

She straddled him and hovered over his field of vision. Her hair had grown longer since last summer. It slid around their heads, creating a curtain around them. "I think you need to cry."

He moved her hair over her shoulders so he could see her face better. "Kathryn," he said in a hoarse whisper, feeling unshed tears sting his eyes.

She kissed his temple softly and caressed his face. "It's okay. You'll still be a heartless bastard in the morning."

He wept then, her kindness breaking the last of his self-control. Kathryn lay with him and, true to her word, didn't say or do a thing to mock him. Instead, she comforted him – something he never would have believed she was capable of. He didn't take the entire day, though. He took less then an hour to feel sorry for himself, then he got up, washed his face with cold water and returned to the bedroom. He looked at Kathryn as she flipped idly through a French magazine. Her face was soft when she looked up at him.

"Why the hell was your bitch of a mother there? Why was she talking to the nurse?"

"Maybe she just wanted to make sure that your mother wasn't getting any better. Your father obviously still loves her. It would make sense that Tiffany would feel threatened by that." He was silent for a moment as he considered it. He'd never heard Kathryn call her mother by her first name.

"Maybe. But I don't like it. And to think that she used me to get her claws into my father in the first place." He knew he didn't have to explain. Kathryn had to have figured out just as he had that there was only one person that Edward was hiding Noelle from. Sebastian.

"Well, now you know. She can't hold it over him anymore."

"I just can't believe that he was that desperate to keep me from knowing."

"He wanted to protect you." He looked at her. She sounded a bit envious.

"I don't need protecting."

"Neither do I, yet you keep insisting. Must be genetic."

He returned her smirk. "We have to go back. Talk to the nurse, find out why Tiffany comes here. I can't leave until I know my mother isn't in any danger."

* * *

Sebastian returned to the nursing home with Kathryn and found the nurse from the pictures that the investigator gave him. The woman was standing outside a room, scribbling on a chart. He told her he wanted to speak to her privately about his mother. She seemed hesitant, but he insisted, using all his charm. In the end she relented and he followed her down the hall. He spotted a janitor's closet and grabbed her arm, pulling her inside it with him before she had a chance to react. Where ever she was taking him likely wouldn't be private enough for what he had in mind.

She was looking at him as if she were trying to figure out if he'd attack her. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

He pulled the pictures out of his pocket. "What were you doing with this woman?"

She looked at it and narrowed her eyes, then looked back at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'll pay you twice what she did."

"Four times," she said quickly, a predatory gleam in her eye as the promise of money quickly changed her tune.

"Fine."

"I want the money first. Then I'll tell you."

He dreaded asking his next question. He had no way of knowing if she was going to tell him the truth. She was obviously as untrustworthy as Tiffany. It wasn't the money so much as it was being taken for a chump that he objected to. "How much?"

She smiled as if she knew what he was thinking. "One hundred thousand Euro."

"Done. But you're coming with me. I can't have you calling the bitch to see if you can get a better price."

"I can't just leave-"

"You don't have a choice." He pulled her against him and whispered menacingly in her ear, "and if you try to pull anything over on me, I'll fucking break your neck. Understand?"

She didn't move a muscle and he backed away to look at her face. She was stunned and more than a little frightened, obviously having mistaken him for harmless, or close to it, and suddenly realizing that she was wrong. His eyes were cold and hard, devoid of any emotion as he dug his fingers painfully into her arm. "Am I understood," he asked again slightly louder, but with that same cold tone.

She nodded her head frantically as she tried in vain to pull away from him, tears forming in her eyes. "Yes. Yes, I understand. You're hurting me."

"Boo fucking hoo," he snarled as he dragged her roughly behind him. "Don't dare try to call attention to us. If you so much as look at anyone, I'll rip your damn arm out of the socket."

He was wearing his mask of the slightly bored, but extremely charming, rich young man as he steered her through the building and out the door to the car that was waiting for them. People glanced at them curiously as they passed by, but no one said anything. Part of him was a bit put off by that. What if he had been a serial killer leading some innocent off to her death? These people were just letting him walk out with the obviously distressed woman without a word. The thought seemed to increase his agitation as he shoved her into the back of the limo. Kathryn was inside waiting, a cigarette between her lips.

"I see you brought along a souvenir," she said as she regarded the nurse coldly.

Sebastian smiled tightly. "Yes. Just a little something I picked up."

The woman glared at them, letting Sebastian know that she at least understood enough English to get the general idea of what they were saying.

Melanie. That was the nurse's name. Her father had been a servant of the Merteuils, attached to their home in Paris. In addition to money, Tiffany had given the woman a cocktail of drugs to be given to Noelle Valmont whenever she appeared to be lucid for any considerable period of time. Sebastian made her return to the nursing home to retrieve the drugs from the director's office, who was of course in on it too. Sebastian told the woman that if she made any attempt to contact Tiffany, he'd tell his father what she'd done. Not only would she not be getting the rest of the 100,000 Euro (he gave her half before sending her off), she wouldn't be getting another dime from Tiffany if his father learned the truth. Not to mention that Tiffany would be highly unlikely to have any tender feelings toward Melanie once she realized she'd told them what she had. She was back in less than an hour.

Drugs. The bitch was drugging his mother. With what? And how long had she been doing it? He stared at the vials of drugs Melanie had given him as if they would provide the answers. Maybe they would. Sebastian called the Belgian investigator. "We're going to need a bit more help."

* * *

"Hello, Dr. Armond."

The short, dark, balding middle aged man whirled around to see Sebastian sitting in a dark corner of his bedroom.

"Who are you?"

"Sebastian Valmont."

The color drained from the man's face. "M… M… Monsieur Valmont. What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to ask you a few questions about my mother's care."

"We should discuss that at the clinic, not in the middle of my bedroom."

"On the contrary. I think you're bedroom is the perfect place to discuss just why in the hell you would be giving my mother psychotropic drugs that are well known to cause psychotic breaks."

"This is preposterous. How dare you break into my home and make such baseless accusations. I demand that you leave immediately, Monsieur!"

"Why don't you call the police? I'm sure Interpol would be very interested in learning about your… unorthodox treatments. Or better yet, why don't we call my father. It's probably a tossup as to whether he'd have you arrested or just beat you to death."

The man's shoulders slumped. "Am I to assume that you did not do any of those things already because you want something from me?"

"Yes."

"I am at your service, Monsieur," the man said softly, a small smile on his face and his hands held out to the sides in surrender.

"I want to know everything you can tell me about your benefactor, Tiffany Van Hanson." Sebastian refused to call her by his last name, so he opted for her maiden name.

* * *

Sebastian marched into the hotel room and pulled his suitcase out of the closet. "We're leaving," he said without preamble as he began to pack his things. He had barely glanced at Kathryn and he didn't want to see the worried look in her eyes.

"Where are we going?"

He was relieved that she wasn't harping on him to eat something anymore. "London."

"I'll come with you on one condition."

He stopped moving. "Kathryn! Will you stop nagging me!"

"Stop being a such a stubborn asshole! And I don't _nag_! You've barely eaten or slept in three days, Sebastian. You're going to collapse, and then what good will you be?"

He glared at her. "You're a fine when to talk about not eating. Would it be better if I ate something and then threw it up?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The side of her mouth twitched and he knew that she was on the edge of exploding. He felt that familiar pang in his chest. His new friend guilt was obviously making the rounds again. Why the hell couldn't he just be mean to her without feeling bad about it anymore?

"Sebastian," she said in an overly calm voice, the voice a mother would use with a small annoying child when she was at the end of her patience, "I know that this is hard on you. I know that you want to destroy my mother. I'm willing to help you, I'll do whatever it takes and go as far as you feel we need to. But I will not sit here and watch you let this consume you. That is the one thing that I will _not_ do. Do you understand me?"

He had been expecting her to defend herself, to remind him coldly that her bulimia was a thing of the past, to hurl a vicious insult, to tell him to go fuck himself and hope on the first plane to the States. Anything but express concern for his well being. He felt the fight drain out of him and the effects of what he'd done to his body for the past three days finally got passed the haze of anger. His stomach felt as if it were trying to eat itself. "Fine," he muttered sullenly. "I'll eat something."

"And take a nap," she said, pressing her advantage.

He smirked at her. "Give the girl an inch and she takes a mile." Of course he'd give in, he usually did eventually unless what she wanted was at odds with his own plans. He paused before saying hesitantly, "I need you to do something for me, Kathryn."

"What would that be," she asked suspiciously.

"You won't like it," he warned, hoping that she wouldn't turn him down.

"Spit it out, Valmont."

"It has to do with your father."

_

* * *

_

He Kaila! I'm glad you like the last chapter... hope you like this one too.

_Kerimack, I'm happy that you like my twisted little story. My focus has always been character development - what makes these characters tick,_ why _are they the way they are. Maybe it was just me, but I noticed the first time I watched CI how vulnerable to and dependant on Sebastian that Kathryn was, and vice versa, even though they were both so closed off from their emotions. I recently watched it again and was confirmed in my belief that it was a mutual dependence. Anyway, enough rambling. I hope you enjoy this new addition._

_-Angie_


	19. Lovers

**Chapter 18  
****Lovers**

Richard Merteuil's European office was on the top floor of Merteuil Towers in London. Kathryn couldn't believe that she was going to do this. Only Sebastian's obvious pain could have made her go to her father, hat in hand, begging for favors. The sheer desperation for an advantage that had made him ask had actually gotten to her. She felt her back straighten even more, the muscles straining tensely, as she stepped into the outer office and marched over to the woman sitting at the large wraparound desk, her father's personal gatekeeper.

"I need to see Richard Merteuil immediately."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No. I don't need one."

The woman smiled condescendingly. "No one gets in to see Mr. Merteuil without an appointment, duckie."

Kathryn cocked her head and glared at the woman. Had the bitch just called her 'duckie?' "I'm his oldest child," she said coldly. "Kathryn Merteuil."

The woman looked at her, aghast. She apparently had no clue that Kathryn existed. "I know all of his children, and you are not-"

Kathryn growled in frustration as she simply went around the woman's desk and barged into her father's office, the woman chasing after her. Richard looked up at the door, a scowl on his face. He was on the phone, but he stopped speaking mid-sentence when he realized who he was looking at.

"Mitch, I'll have to call you back. Something just came up." He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.

"Sir, I'm so sorry," the insipid twit began before a wave from Richard cut her off.

"It's okay, Patty. If she's anything like her mother, she's probably pretty much unstoppable," he said with a slight smile.

Richard Merteuil was the opposite of Tiffany Valmont. Where she was fair and blond, he was dark. He was from French stock, but he looked slightly Mediterranean. His dark hair was combed straight back and his deep brown eyes studied his oldest child wearily. Looking a good ten years younger than his age, he obviously kept himself in shape, and his broad chest was almost as big as Kathryn remembered from her childhood. When she used to sit on his lap and 

listen to his heartbeat. She admonished herself not to go down that road. Now was not the time. She was here on a mission.

"Hello, Daddy."

"You can go, Patty," he said softly, never taking his eyes off his daughter. Once the door was closed, he cleared his throat. "It's been a long time, princess."

"You don't get to call me that anymore," she said coolly, her demeanor betraying nothing of her conflicted emotions.

He sighed heavily. "You've grown up."

"Of course I have. I couldn't stay six forever."

"Did you come to tell me what a rat bastard I am?"

She pursed her lips and studied the man that she once thought hung the moon and stars. The man who had abandoned her for his new family, leaving her to Tiffany's tender mercies without so much as a backwards glance. "No. I came because I need your help." She pulled one of the vials of psychotropic drugs they'd brought back with them from Belgium out of her purse and held it up.

* * *

"I don't know many of your mother's secrets, Kathryn. But I do know someone likely would. Aramis Valmont." She had brought him back to The Blake Hotel where she introduced him to Sebastian. The elder Merteuil now sat on the couch of the drawing room of their 007 suite.

"Who," Sebastian asked incredulously as he abruptly stopped pacing. Kathryn was thankful because she was an inch away from throwing something at him.

Richard smiled slightly. "You're father's cousin, Aramis."

"Why would _he_ know everything?"

The older man sighed, suddenly looking his age as he gave his daughter a sidelong glance. "Because he has been her lover for over twenty years."

Sebastian blinked at him silently, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. Kathryn understood his confusion. Aramis Valmont was the black sheep of the family, which as saying a lot since Valmont men seemed to naturally tend towards debauchery. Aramis took it one step further, going through life the way that Sebastian had gone through high school. Named after the most coldly calculating of the Three Musketeers, he was every bit as Machiavellian as his name sake. Tiffany made a big deal out of hating him, not allowing him to so much as enter the house.

"How do you know that he's her lover," Kathryn asked.

"I… caught them together. We argued and she told me everything." Pain flashed briefly over his features as he recalled what he'd seen that day. Kathryn bet she had told him everything, in the cruelest manner possibly. "Apparently they were together the entire time."

"Together," Kathryn repeated incredulously. The thought of her mother having sex with anyone was disturbing, but Aramis Valmont? The man who Sebastian was probably most like in the world? She glanced at Sebastian, who looked just as shell shocked as she was. "And you know for a fact that they're still together?"

"No… I just don't think they would be apart. They seemed very… close. I've also heard things about them being in the same parts of the world at the same times a little too often to be a coincidence."

"You've been keeping an eye on them?"

He shrugged. "Keep your friends close…" his voice trailed off. He was obviously uncomfortable talking about it.

"And your enemies closer," his daughter finished for him with a raised brow. She remembered hearing him say that when she was a child, and had even said it herself a time or two. "Where would we find Aramis? Is he still living in the Valmont home in Paris?"

"We can't go after him directly," Sebastian said. "He's as likely to give her up as I am to give you up."

She frowned at him, trying to catch up with the leaps he was making, his infamous intuition at work. "You don't mean… they're like _us_?"

"You have to admit, the similarities are all there. Except that you're not a _complete_ heinous bitch. They're probably the only two people in the world who completely understand each other, and with great sex in the mix…"

"How do you know the sex is great?"

"Over twenty years and they're still at it. This _is_ Aramis we're talking about." Kathryn raised a brow in concession and Sebastian continued. "If I'm right, he'd do anything for her. And she'd likely throw him under the nearest bus to save her own hide." She scowled at him and he laughed. "I don't think you'd do that to me, baby. But I _know_ Tiffany would. Whatever humanity she ever had shriveled up and died a long time ago."

She was still a little put off by the comment about throwing him under the bus. Partially because she knew there was a time when that had been true. But was it still true? Would she sell him out if she felt it was the only way to save herself? Was one of Sebastian's oddly timed bouts of sentimentality leading him to give her too much credit? She pushed the thoughts away. There would be time for reflection later, when this was done. "True. But it's a weakness that we can exploit. Play them off each other until they self destruct. Like we almost did," she said, a predatory smile spreading across her face.

"Exactly." Sebastian gave her an equally predatory smile of his own.

Richard had been watching them silently through the entire exchange and finally cleared his throat. The two young people turned to him as if they'd forgotten he was even there. "Are the two of you…?"

"Fucking," Kathryn asked bluntly. "Yes. But right now, we're plotting, so if you don't mind."

* * *

It took another three houndred thousand miles and two weeks to get a full picture of what had happened. They sought out and asked the people who always knew what was going on behind the facades of the rich and famous – the servants. They found them with Tuttle's aid. Then they bribed, cajoled, threatened, and did basically whatever it took to get the information they needed. Sebastian and Kathryn even had to spend one entire day playing shuffle board. That was the day she realized she must really actually love the bastard. Standing in the hot sun, the humidity making her hot and sweaty, playing a boring game with a group of geriatric men who kept pinching her ass. All for Sebastian. She rolled her eyes. How pathetic was she? Sebastian kept giving her grateful looks. He knew that she didn't want to be there, that she stayed for him. To keep him sane, to keep him on track and focused. At least she now knew whether she'd ever throw him under the bus to save herself. Never in a million years.

They spent so much of Sebastian's money that his father called him, asking why his accountant had called in a panic wondering if some thief had managed to access his accounts. Sebastian made up some story about taking Kathryn on a globetrotting trip and spoiling her rotten before they started college. Kathryn smirked as she listened. Always tell a lie that the other person wanted to hear and they swallowed it that much easier. For some strange reason, Edward was rooting for them and he wanted to believe that all of his son's focus was on her. So it didn't matter that Sebastian was going through money like water. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it.

It had all begun when Tiffany Van Hanson Merteuil Hartwell set her sights on her third husband and wasn't about to be detoured by a small thing like the fact that he was already married and didn't have any desire to leave his wife. She simply needed to get the wife out of the way. Edward already saw her as a friend with occasional benefits and foolishly trusted her. She tried having an acquaintance seduce Noelle, but the woman was apparently faithful to her philandering husband to a fault. Though they suspected that the acquaintance in question was Aramis, they couldn't confirm it. At that time, Edward's cheating wasn't nearly as prodigious as it was currently and he didn't have a constant stream of young, nubile secretaries streaming in and out of his office at the time. His affairs were much more discrete and selective. Tiffany tried to use that against her, tried to feed on any insecurities she might have, but to no avail. Noelle knew about her husband's extracurricular activities, of course, but never spoke of it and never seemed to be too put off by her husband's indiscretions. The only thing that mattered to her was that he came home every night to her and their son.

Tiffany briefly thought about killing the other woman, but that would lead to too many questions. So she settled for the next best thing. She found a doctor who was willing to mix a psychotropic drug cocktail that would induce a psychotic break. She bribed a Valmont servant to drug Noelle's food and watched as the woman began to quickly spiral out of control. A servant told them how Tiffany had celebrated the night that she learned Noelle had attempted suicide. She had been laughing with a friend – a male friend with a French accent – that her plan had been even more successful then she had dreamed.

Noelle hadn't died that night, but she had brain damage due to the lack of oxygen as she bled out. She was in a coma for two months before she woke up. Then it became apparent that she didn't remember the past fifteen years of her life. That included her entire marriage and the existence of her son. Sebastian had been so traumatized by walking in on his mother's suicide 

attempt, and Edward so desperate to help him get beyond it, that it didn't take much for Tiffany to convince him to allow the boy to think she was dead. He would morn longer if he had to deal with the difficult reality of her body still being there when her mind was clearly gone.

Tiffany kept a supply of the drugs at the nursing home, and bribed the head nurse and the director to make sure that Noelle still had the occasional 'set back' just in case Edward ever got any bright ideas about taking her out of the institution. Even with Noelle safely out of the way, it still took her three years to get Edward down the aisle. Persistent, even for Tiffany. Kathryn suspected it had to do more with Edward's net worth than anything else, and Tiffany hadn't been in too big of a hurry since she knew Samuel wouldn't leave her as long as he was still wanted to be sure that he could get to Kathryn.

Right now Sebastian was sitting on the floor of their hotel suite in Boca Raton – a city that Kathryn found absolutely horrid and that only Sebastian could have induced her to visit – tapping the knuckle of a long finger against the side of the end table as he thought, his back leaning against the bed. It was one of his many nervous ticks and it was beginning to drive Kathryn insane.

"Sebastian," she said softly, trying to draw him out of his head.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Sebastian," she repeated a little more sharply. "I'm going break your damn finger!"

He stopped and looked at her, his eyes so filled with cold fury that she nearly winced involuntarily. "You know what I'm going to do, don't you?" His voice was cold and flat, devoid of all emotion.

"You're going to use the drugs on Aramis and pit them against each other. If he's involved."

"He is. Can you live with it?"

She raised an eyebrow at the irrelevant question. "Can you?"

"I don't know, but that won't stop me. Only you can stop me. If it would cost me you…"

"It won't," she said softly. "But you need to be aware that this isn't a game. Someone may die." She began to kneed the muscles in his shoulders. They were silent for a few moments as he began to melt into her touch. He took one of her hands and kissed the back.

"I hate her, Kathryn," he said finally. "I hate her more than I ever thought it was possible to hate someone. Even though I know that in his place I might have done the same thing, I hate Aramis too."

She slid off the bed and sat on his lap. "I know."

"I won't shed a fucking tear if they killed each other, Kathryn." She realized that he was telling the truth as she looked into his eyes. She frowned, not sure if she was ready to be responsible for her mother's death. Neither was she sure that she liked this particular change in Sebastian. If anyone was going to cross the line in their games and end up going so far as to cause an actual death, she would have put money on herself. Hadn't she already come close, she thought as she looked into Sebastian's blue eyes and shuddered at the thought that she had nearly lost him a year ago. Much as she loathed to admit it, she depended on Sebastian to be the cautious one. Because though she was always careful, she was rarely cautious with the lives of others. "If you're not okay with that we can change the plan."

She shook her head. "An eye for an eye."

"All these years, I blamed my father. I thought he drove her to it," he said, his voice beginning to quiver with emotion. "And it was that _bitch_ the entire time."

Her heart broke for him as she took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her again. "Sebastian Valmont, you can't change the past."

"But-"

"But what," she demanded harshly, her eyes hard as diamonds. "You have a time machine hidden away somewhere that you haven't told me about? How exactly are you planning on undoing everything that's already happened?"

He blinked at her. "I can't."

"No, you can't. It was fucked up, but it happened and you can't change a damn thing. Push beyond it, Sebastian." She was speaking from experience. After everything that she had been through, she never would have survived if she hadn't learned to coldly focus on what she needed to do next.

"How can you expect me to just get over everything we learned? Some of us have actual emotions, Kathryn." Smack! She slapped him with surprising strength and his head whipped to the side. He glared at her, his cheek turning a bright red. "Are you planning on slapping me once every two months for the rest of our lives?"

"If you plan on being a complete asshole once every two months for the rest of our lives, definitely. I understand that you're in pain, Sebastian, but do _not_ fucking push me. We can't go up against my mother and Aramis if you're not going to bring you're A game. They've been at this since before we were born. I learned everything I know from Tiffany, but I had no clue what she was capable of. Neither of them will have any compunction about destroying us to survive. I need you to man up. You'll have time to cry like a girl later, but until then you need to lock it the fuck away. Otherwise, you're on your own."

He blinked at her, the anger in his eyes slowly fading until they were placid, his features calm and unreadable. "You're right."

She lightly ran her fingertips over his reddened cheek before leaning forward to kiss it, feeling his breath on the side of her neck. Digging his fingers into her hips, he pulled her tightly against him as he began to nibble on her neck. She undid his shirt and pants as she moaned. She reached into his pants and began stroking his stiff cock. Eyes closed, he let his head fall back against the mattress, enjoying her touch. Finally he rolled her over onto the floor and began undressing her. He wasn't gentle, though he didn't hurt her. She understood that he needed an outlet, some way to vent. At least he wasn't brooding anymore.

He spread her legs and began eating her, not slowly the way he usually did but sending her immediately into a frenzy. She arched her back, trying to press more of his tongue and fingers into her, pulling on his hair and scratching at his shoulders. Her first orgasm came quickly, and slammed into her with such force that she thought she might pass out. She heard herself screaming his name along with assorted obscenities, as if she were having some sort of out of body experience and listening to herself from the next room. How the hell did he do that? How did he manage to turn her into a panting, quivering mess in a few short minutes?

He pulled away to scoop her up into his arms and place her on the bed. Then he was between her legs, his tongue in her mouth and his cock pounding into to her. She wrapped herself around him and met each thrust as he buried his face in the crock of her neck.

"Uh… I'm close," she called out as she wrapped her legs around him tighter, trying to pull him in deeper.

He lifted his head and looked at her. "Cum for me, baby." He traced a circle on her nipple with his thumb. "Cum for me." That was enough to send her over the edge. He watched as she came, still moving inside her, until he finally succumbed to his own orgasm. He stiffened and his fingers dug into her hips. He rolled off of her, but he kept staring at her. "Did I hurt you?"

She smiled. "No. But I think I drew blood." She rolled onto her side and licked the angry red scratches on his shoulder.

He drew a breath through his clenched teeth. "Can we do this," he asked, wiping the sweat from his face with his hand and pulling her close with the other.

"Of course we can. They don't know we're on to them. And even if they did, my mother wouldn't view me as a worthy opponent."

"Why?"

"Because she thinks I was stupid enough to allow myself to become your conquest."

"You _are_ my conquest," he said smugly. She responded by punching him in the shoulder. "Hey!"

"I think we should prove her right," she said, her eyes sparkling with malice.

He couldn't help smiling. He loved it when she had that look in her eyes. "What devious scheme is hatching in that evil head of yours, baby?"

* * *

"Mother…" her voice was thin, right on the edge of breaking.

"What is it," Tiffany asked sharply. Kathryn could almost see Sebastian's eyes roll as he listened to the conversation on the extension in his room. She'd made sure he had it on mute just in case he felt the urge to laugh out loud during the phone call.

"He's in there with someone else… I came home and heard them… He's fucking someone else! God, I can still hear them." She was crying now, sounding hysterical.

"You stupid little slut, I told you this would happen."

"But he loves me," she whaled.

"I didn't raise you to be this stupid! Never believe a man when he says that he loves you! _Never_! There's always going to be someone cuter, or younger, or tighter, or thinner."

"What am I going to do now?"

"You should have listened to me when I tried to warn you. You're on your own now."

"But Mom-" Kathryn stopped when she heard the line click. "Mother?" Nothing. The line was dead. Kathryn glared at the handset in disbelief. She'd known Tiffany would be cold, but that was ridiculous. "Bitch!"

Sebastian walked in just as she was slamming down the receiver. "Wow. That was so warm and fuzzy. I seriously almost cried."

She smiled at him, the crocodile tears on her face drying. "I am effectively no longer a threat."

He wiped away her tears with his fingers and kissed her. "And of course, without you, I'm just a fickle playboy who's only a danger to vacuous debutants."

"If she believes that, she's even stupider then I thought," she said dryly as she through her arms around his neck.

* * *

"Miss?" They looked at the doorway to see Mai-Lee standing there. "You have a visitor," she said in Vietnamese.

Kathryn frowned, wondering who it was. "Show them to the upstairs living room," she replied in Vietnamese. "I'll be there in a moment."

She was sitting at Sebastian's desk. She felt closer to him when she was in his room. Though she was loath to admit it, she missed him terribly and hoped that he would be home soon. With a sigh, she got up and went to see who had come to hold court. She stopped in the doorway at the sight of her father. He was standing near the window looking at the family photo they'd taken with the president a few years back.

"What are you doing here?"

He turned, startled by the sound of her voice. She noticed what looked like a shoe box in his hands. "Prin- Kathryn. I came to give you these." He held out the box.

She took it, eyeing him suspiciously. Opening the box, she saw that it contained letters. They were all post marked for at least a year previously and addressed to her. They were also all marked return to sender. "What am I supposed to do with these? Make a collage?"

"I thought maybe you'd like to have them."

Kathryn stared at the box for a moment. "What did she do to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"To make you leave. What did she do?" Kathryn realized that she was hoping that her mother had done something, that her father hadn't just abandoned her. The letters had given her hope again. Hope. It was appropriate that it had four letters.

He paused. "I made the fatal mistake of letting her know my weakness. She realized that the money meant nothing to me, that I would have given her anything if she would let me take you with me. I left her after I caught her with Aramis. She told me that nobody left her, that she'd make me pay for it."

Kathryn wasn't surprised to hear that her mother had used her in her war against Richard. Her father sat down on the piano bench before continuing. "When I told you that I'd come back for you, I meant it. But Tiffany… she said she'd go to the police and tell them that I'd molested you if I ever came near you again."

"Why didn't you fight her?"

He looked at her, his eyes filled with regret. "You have no idea how much I wish I had. But who was going to take my word against hers? Everyone loved her, thought she was the kindest, most honest person they knew. She said that she'd claim that she saw me touch you, that she'd find a shrink to claim that you were so traumatized that you didn't remember. Of course she'd turn on the waterworks and I wouldn't stand a chance. I thought just walking away would be better for you then dragging you through a messy trial. People would always talk, always wonder if it was true. I didn't give a damn what they thought about me… but I never wanted you to even know about things like that at your age."

Kathryn laughed at the irony. She missed Sebastian even more… only he would fully appreciate this. "So you wrote me letters?"

"I started four years ago. I wrote for almost three years, every time I knew she was gone. I had hoped that one of them would get through to you, that you'd want to see me. But all the letters were returned to me unopened. I started to wonder if you had washed your hands of me."

"You could have come here."

He smiled. "I could have. But I was afraid. It was easier to be rejected through the mail then to be rejected in person."

Kathryn went to the window and looked out onto the street. "She told me that you didn't want me anymore. That you had a new family, a new little girl and the boy you've always wanted."

"I love Cameron and Jenson. But neither of them could take your place. Once you're a parent, you'll realize that you can't just replace one child with another." He laughed softly. "You know, I'm a ruthless son of a bitch, but your mother is in a category all her own. I suppose I never did really understand her."

"That's because you're one of the decent people, Daddy. Ruthless business man or not." Her father might ruin people for professional reasons, but it was all business to him. He probably had no idea what it was like to gain pleasure from destroying another person. It was never personal for him.

* * *

"Hey baby."

Kathryn smiled at the sound of Sebastian's voice. He'd called her on the disposable cell phone that she'd gotten for that express purpose. "Hey yourself. How's Cousin Aramis?"

He laughed. "I'll give you a full report in a bit. But first I want to try something new."

"Something new?"

"Yes. Phone sex."

"What makes you think I've never had phone sex?"

He laughed softly, his voice sounding like sex. How a voice could sound like sex, Kathryn didn't exactly know, only that his somehow did. "I have no doubt that you have, you dirty little slut. I meant new for us. I miss fucking you, and the sound of your voice is making me very horny. Especially when you're just waking up."

She spread her legs and pulled up her gown, the sound of his need making her wet and achy. "You like my voice," she whispered breathily as her free hand slowly made is way down the smooth skin of her stomach.

"I love your voice." He sucked in a breath as if he could see what she was doing.

Before she knew it she was touching herself. Her breath caught in her throat and she heard him moan. She had always thought that phone sex was silly, but with Sebastian it was incredibly erotic. The sound of his moans as he masturbated on the other end and his sexy voice, husky from arousal, describing exactly what he'd like to do to her in great detail, and as lewdly as possible, combined to make the whole experience sexier then she'd ever realized it could be. The theme of his current fantasy was ice. She finally fingered herself to an orgasm and he quickly followed suit.

"Enjoyed that, didn't you," he asked quietly, sounding much more relaxed then he had previously.

"You're such a cocky prick."

He laughed. "I'll take that as a yes. Aramis thinks I'm out getting laid. The man has a fucking harem in his bedroom."

She chuckled. "Like you never did that. I seem to remember waking up one morning just in time to witness nearly the entire damn cheerleading squad parade out of your room."

She could hear his smile over the phone. "True. But I was starting to worry that he'd invite me to join them. Thankfully the bastard's stingy his women."

"You're not calling from his house?"

"Oh, god no! I wasn't born yesterday, Kathryn. I'm on one of the disposable cell phones calling from a hotel. I know we both have to use them to make sure that these calls are completely untraceable. I went to a nightclub last night. Pressed the flesh a little, just in case he had me followed. Brought a girl to the hotel and drugged her."

"You what? Sebastian!"

"I got some ruffies from Tuttle just in case. I didn't want to have to actually fuck the slut. She was so drunk, she didn't even notice that she hadn't been fucked last night when she woke up."

_

* * *

_

I hope you all enjoyed the breakneck pace of the last chapter. Since it was told from Sebastian's point of view, I tried to give a sense of how he felt everything was just coming at him at once.

_**ArTeMuS09**__, I'm glad you're enjoying my story!_

_**Kaila**__, Glad you're still with me girl!_

_I hope this new chapter lives up to everyone's expectations._

_-Angie_


	20. Aramis

**Chapter 19  
Aramis**

Aramis Valmont was tall, thin and toned, much like Sebastian. His hair, though, was black, long enough for the ends to kiss the top of his collar and more wavy than curly. His eyes were a deep and soulful gray. He had the Valmont cockiness, that trademark careless arrogance. He was impeccably dressed, another Valmont trait, in tailored gray trousers and a blue shirt. He silently studied his young cousin closely as the two sat together in the parlor after dinner smoking cigars. Aramis was having a glass of port while Sebastian had cognac.

"You didn't just decide to come visit me for no reason." He said casually after talking a sip of the thick, sweet alcohol. He had apparently decided that waiting twenty four hours before broaching the subject was polite enough. Valmonts were always impeccably polite, even when their behavior was utterly outrageous.

"No. I came to get away from the States for a little while. I hadn't been to Paris in a long time, thought it was as good an excuse as any to come for a visit."

"I heard you were being a very naughty boy. Fucking your stepsister." He smirked in approval.

"You heard about that?"

"Saw the tabloid pictures. How good was she?"

"How good?" Sebastian took a deep breath and exhaled through pursed lips as he realized he really didn't need to lie about that part. "Best piece of ass I've ever had."

"Why'd you leave her?"

"Who said I did?"

"You're trying to get away from the States, and without her."

He shrugged. "You know how it is. I get bored easily. Besides, she was starting to cling. That's always a sure sign that it's time to run for your life."

Aramis shrugged to and looked away, feeding the scantily clad woman sitting next to him a grape. Sebastian knew exactly what he was thinking. That the younger man was a fool. He bet that his cousin would do anything to have Tiffany 'cling' a little. Not that he'd call anything about Kathryn clingy. That part had been a complete fabrication since the woman went out of her way to do anything but cling. He smiled to himself as he watched his cousin take a sip of his port. It was drugged. As was his absinthe. He knew that his cousin only drank the absinthe when he was agitated and because of the bitter taste, he was able to put a lot of the drugs in it without altering the taste noticeably. The port he drank every day after dinner. "You look pleased with yourself over something."

"Oh, I'm very pleased. Kathryn is my greatest conquest to date. My _magnum opus_, you might say. I've been trying to get into that particular pair of panties for four years. Not only did I finally bed her, but I got her to go public with our relationship. I got her to give up everything for me. She loved me so much, that when she caught me fucking some cheap slut, she completely fell apart. She even called her heartless bitch of a mother looking for comfort. She should have known better than that," he said with a chuckle. "The wicked step-monster actually told her that she was a stupid slut to ever believe any man who told her he loved her."

"You heard her actually say that?"

Sebastian nodded. "I was eavesdropping on an extension. Kathryn was so upset, she didn't even notice. That Tiff's a real piece of work. If she ever had an honest emotion it was long before I ever met her. Whatever parts of Kathryn were left unscathed by me, her mother made quick work of in a matter of seconds. Left her a broken mess. You have no idea how satisfying it was, after all the mindfucking, all the years of manipulation, all the teasing, all the fucking torture I had to endure at that evil controlling slut's hands, to watch her just completely shatter. Making her my toy and then breaking her was the biggest accomplishment of my life."

Sebastian may have sounded like he was ranting, but everything he was saying was calculated. He knew what would have set him off if he were in Aramis' place and he and Kathryn were still hiding their relationship for the sake of her image. He pushed every button he could think of, prayed on every conceivable fear, uncovered every bone of contention. The drugs would do the rest. The drugs, and Tiffany's naturally abrasive personality and her insatiable hunger for control of everything. Especially her desire to control Aramis. All the things that drove him insane about Kathryn, without most – if any – of the endearing qualities. It was only a matter of time before dear Cousin Aramis snapped.

"You love her, don't you?"

Sebastian allowed himself to falter, to show the first real emotion since he'd arrived at his cousin's doorstep the day before. "More than I ever thought possible. Damn the bitch."

"You do realize that once you've managed to break the unbreakable, it may never be what it once was again?"

"Why the fuck do you think I'm here," Sebastian asked testily, taking a sip of his cognac. There was a long silence between them, and Sebastian prayed to whatever deity that may exist, to fate, to karma, to whatever the hell may be out there listening, that his cousin bought his act. Bought that he had struck out at Kathryn rashly in anger and ran away in the face of the consequences. It took every bit of self control he had to hide his relief when his cousin spoke again, sounding tired.

"Well, let's hope that you haven't peaked at 18, cousin. That would mean that your life is only going downhill from here." Aramis downed the rest of his port in one swallow.

_That's it, _cousin, Sebastian thought darkly, _drink up_.

* * *

Blaine had given Kathryn the heads up that her mother was coming home. She took great pains to look unkempt and depressed. She didn't bathe or brush her teeth that morning. She wasted bourbon on herself and rubbed alcohol in her eyes to make them red and swollen, even slapped herself a few times to make her face red and swollen too. Her long brown hair was dull and tangled from not being brushed out. She looked like a suicidal homeless woman, she thought with disgust as she surveyed her handiwork. Okay, so she didn't look quite that bad, but she did look like someone who had spent the past two days doing little more than weeping and, from the smell, drinking. A far cry from her usual appearance. She double checked the empty bourbon bottle and the ashtray that she'd made Blaine help her fill with butts then crawled into bed and forced herself to remain there until she heard her mother's sharp footsteps. Tiffany pounded on the door.

"Are you in there, Kathryn," she demanded sharply.

"Go the fuck away!"

The door opened. "Don't speak to me like that young lady! Not after I interrupted my plans to come help you extricate yourself from the mess you've made!"

Kathryn sat up and glared at her mother, allowing her to get the full effect of her appearance. "I thought you said I was on my own, mother. I don't want you here."

"Oh my god! What the fuck have you done to yourself?" The look of utter horror on Tiffany's face was amusing. She couldn't wait to tell Sebastian about it when he called again. If he wasn't watching it right now.

"Nothing! I just… needed to sleep in. I was hung over when I woke up and decided to just try go back to sleep."

"You let a _man_ do this to you? I thought I taught you better then that! You will get your stupid little ass in the bathroom and clean yourself up and you will do it right now!"

Kathryn crossed her arms sullenly, even though there was little else in the world that she wanted to do more then get clean at that moment. "You have no idea what it feels like to love someone."

"No, and looking at what a complete mess you are right now, I'm very thankful for that. You can't count on anyone, Kathryn. You have to look out for yourself. I thought you learned that lesson a long time ago."

"When would I have learned this mother? Oh, that's right, when you allowed Sam to fuck me for four years so he'd stay married to you and give you access to his money. You know, there's a word for that. It's called a pimp." Kathryn allowed the full weight of her fury over that to surface as she glared at her mother. Tiffany glared right back, as if Kathryn had no right to be angry.

"You ungrateful brat!"

_No, I'm not ungrateful Mother_, Kathryn thought to herself. _I'm actually very grateful that you made me tough enough to destroy you_. "How did it feel mother," she taunted, "knowing that the man you were married to was more attracted to your prepubescent daughter then he ever was to you? Knowing that it probably made his skin crawl to touch you. Knowing that during the few times he ever actually fucked you, he was probably thinking of me. I bet that was the only way he could get off. Did he ever call you my name? Has _anyone_ ever actually loved you? Because I don't. I fucking hate you. I've hated you since the day I finally realized what you are. I bet every man in your life has had the same reaction the instant they get a glimpse of what a fucking odious bitch you truly are."

For a second, there was so much rage in her eyes that Kathryn thought Tiffany would hit her and reflected on how she seemed to have a knack for making people want to physically harm her. Instead, Tiffany drew herself up and glared at her only child coldly. "Why don't you tell me? You're the one crying in bed over a fucking Valmont. They're amazing in bed aren't they? I swear it's got to be genetic. And Sebastian does stand to inherit a great deal of money and power. Other than that, really Kathryn, what _good_ are the fickle bastards? It's like trying to catch lightening in a bottle. He left you in the end, didn't he? You gave him all the power, and he walked out on you just like I said he would. How does _that_ feel? Knowing he probably can't stand the sight of you anymore now that you're just another notch in his bedpost? I bet he's probably out fucking some other slut or two as we speak."

"Sebastian loves me," she insisted.

"Really? Is fucking other women in front of you how he shows it? They're like puppies, Kathryn. You _train_ them. You _use_ them for amusement, for sex, for protection, to get what you need. The one thing you never, _never_ do give them any sort of power over you, otherwise you become just another one of their sluts. You used to know that!"

"Sebastian isn't some toy. He just got scared. I know him… he… he thinks I'm like _you_. That I don't have a heart, that I just used him. But I'm nothing like you. I never want to be _anything_ like you. I would do anything for…" She pretended to cut herself off, as if she were about to say something that she didn't want to.

"Well, congratulations. You've just laid to rest any mistaken belief that you ever could be like me. Not get yourself into the shower before someone finds out what a bloody mess you are!"

"Oh, I see. This is about your reputation, isn't it? What will they say about your mothering skills if your daughter's holed up in the townhouse all depressed and despondent?"

The two women glared at each other and when Kathryn didn't move, her mother came over and grabbed her by the ear and physically dragged her, cursing and scratching, out of bed and into the bathroom.

"Scratch me one more time, you little bitch, and I'll take it out of your ass, and don't think I can't!"

* * *

Sebastian was enjoying an after dinner coffee in the sitting room, his cousin across the room from him drinking his port and playing chess with one of his women, when his phone rang. Every time Sebastian saw a woman, she was a different one, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out where they were all coming from. Did they live here? Did they come and go on a schedule? And he thought he'd had game. He wondered if he'd have ended up living in a house with hot and cold running women if he hadn't ended up in a surprisingly stable relationship with Kathryn as he glanced at the caller id before answering.

"Hey Tuttle. Miss me already?"

"Terribly. However, this is business and not pleasure. You might want to turn on that nifty little program I put on your computer. Tiffany's back in town and I'm told there's going to be one hell of a show."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for the heads up."

He folded his cell, ending the call and excused himself. Aramis barely looked up as he went to get his seldom used laptop. He brought it back to the sitting room. He opened the program that showed him live feds from the cameras they'd installed in the townhouse in New York. He nearly laughed that the memory of Kathryn calling him a stalker when he told her that he'd asked Tuttle to have someone set them up. He had picked up his coffee and was preparing to take a sip as he waited for the program to open. The first thing he heard when the program started was Tiffany.

"…_that! You will get your stupid little ass in the bathroom and clean yourself up and you will do it right now!"_

Sebastian jumped at the sharpness of her tone, spilling a little of his coffee. "Bitch," he growled, momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to be on the outs with Kathryn. If he had been close, he may have strangled Tiffany. As it was, he was squeezing the hell out of his coffee cup. He quickly maximized one of the little windows and found himself watching the feed from Kathryn's bedroom.

Aramis was at his side suddenly. "What is that? Was that your stepmother's voice?"

"I'm watching Kathryn."

"You're _spying_ on her," he looked at Sebastian in disbelief, but his curiosity won out before he was able to say anything more on the subject. "Is this happening now?"

Sebastian gave him a sidelong glance. "Yes, and I'm _not_ spying on her. Now shut up so I can hear!"

The two men watched the fight between mother and daughter in silence. After Tiffany dragged Kathryn to the bathroom, Sebastian turned the computer off in disgust. "I have to go back. What the _fuck_ am I doing here?" He wasn't acting anymore. He needed to be there, protecting Kathryn, not in fucking Paris trying to gaslight his father's cousin. Spending the rest of his life being Tiffany's little bitch was punishment in and of itself.

"Tiffany will never let you near her."

"It's my fucking house, the tramp can't keep me out."

"She'll find a way. She always does."

"What do you know about it anyway?"

"More then I'd like to," he said gravely, still staring at the computer.

"Yes, that clears everything up nicely."

Aramis gave him a sharp look of warning to watch himself. "Tiffany and I are… friends."

Sebastian studied him closely. "You're fucking that despicable whore," he asked, sounding incredulous, accusatory and shocked, as if he were reading between the lines of Aramis' words and hadn't already figured it out.

He smirked at Sebastian's description of Tiffany, and for an instant the younger man wondered if the two insulted each other the way that he and Kathryn did. "Sometimes. When she feels she needs to… renew my loyalty."

"You are aware that she's your cousin's _wife_."

"One of the many unfortunate things I've been unable to talk her out of over the years. But then, I suppose that she never gave much of a damn about any opinions I may have had. After all, I'm just a puppy. A very well trained one, apparently. At least now I know she thinks I'm an excellent lay." His last sentence was leaden with sarcasm and it was clear that being considered good in bed wasn't much consolation for Tiffany's obvious lack of respect for him.

Sebastian recognized the pain Aramis was in. It was what he'd felt when Kathryn called him a toy the year before. Had that only been a year ago? Less in fact. After everything he'd done for her, everything he had still been willing to do for her, and everything that he felt for her it had been like a kick in the gut. It had to be ten times worse for the older man after at least twenty years doing his obsession's bidding. He almost told him that he'd been drugging him, almost tried to recruit him to help bring down Tiffany, but then he remembered his mother, remembered that Aramis had celebrated with the bitch when they heard about Noelle's suicide attempt. The idea of the two drinking Champaignand laughing over his family's misery drove any sympathy that he may have felt for Aramis right out of his mind.

Sebastian laughed and Aramis gave him another sharp look. "Sorry. It's just… how the fuck did you managed to become someone's _pet_? And Tiffany's of all people?" He went over the bar and poured himself a glass of bourbon. He held the bottle out to his cousin by way of an offer.

Aramis shook his head. "Absinthe," he said, his tone filled with bitterness.

_Good choice_, Sebastian thought as he poured a small amount of the drugged liquor into one of the special glasses used for it. "You know what I think? I think you ought to teach the bitch a lesson. Show her just how well trained you are." He placed the slotted spoon on top of the glass and a cube of sugar on top of the spoon before opening the small refrigerator behind the bar.

"What are you suggesting?"

Sebastian poured the ice water he'd taken from the refrigerator over the sugar cube. The green color of the pure absinthe turned a cloudy white as the water dissolved the cube and the mixture flowed through the holes in the spoon, it diluting the liquor. "I bet you have all sorts of dirt on her. Things that would ruin her, if not put her in jail, if they were to ever get out. I've only known Kathryn for four years, but the things I know about her would turn Tiffany's hair white. You've known my step-monster for how long?" He handed the potent alcohol to Aramis.

"Nearly twenty five years," he said before taking a sip.

Sebastian whistled. "You could probably bury the hateful cunt if you wanted to," he said softly, feeding Aramis' natural desire for revenge. Seduction, he had learned a long time ago, was seduction. It didn't matter if it was sexual or not. The principles were still the same, simply apply gentle pushing and prodding along a person's own natural inclinations. He watched as Aramis' eyes glossed over and knew what was going through his mind. The same things that had been going through his mind after the accident, when he finally figured out that he could actually hurt Kathryn. "Well, I'm going to call my travel agent. I'm going back to the States tomorrow."

Aramis grunted something unintelligible, still lost in his thoughts, as he sipped his drink.

* * *

"Sebastian?"

"Are you alright? I saw you and Tiffany earlier. I swear that bitch as all the maternal instincts of a pit viper. I'm coming back."

"Sebastian! Keep your fucking head in the game. I can handle my mother."

She heard him take a deep breath. "I didn't like the way she spoke to you, and I hated watching the bitch put her hands on you!"

"She can't hurt me anymore, and I swear to god if you screw this up now Valmont, I'll rip off your damn balls and use them as a hood ornament!"

"You wouldn't. You like them too much." She could hear the smile in his voice.

"Try me," she said coldly even as she wondered why it was so hard for her to stay angry with the son of a bitch.

He was silent for a moment. She listened to his breathing, finding the sound oddly comforting, and waited for him to speak again. "I miss you. You know, we haven't really been apart since that first night."

"You are such a fucking pussy."

"I thought we were discussing your fucking pussy. Or better yet, me fucking your pussy."

She laughed. "You're so vulgar."

"Well, lucky for me you like vulgar. Am I making you wet?"

"You always make me wet," she said in a sexy whisper. She smiled at his sigh. She always knew just what to say or do to drive him past the point of reason.

"Can you touch yourself?"

"I can. That doesn't mean I will."

He sighed again, this time in frustration. "Kathryn!"

"If you want to get laid, go do it."

There was another long pause and she thought she heard his breath catch in his throat. "Is that what you want? You really want me to go out and screw some random slut?"

_I don't want anyone else so much as looking at you_, she thought. "You can't honestly tell me that you don't want to. You don't have to change for me."

"I know that. Now, back to how wet you are…"

A smile spread across her face, realizing that Sebastian was actually choosing to be faithful to her. A year ago, she would have never believed that was even a distant possibility. Six months ago she would have laughed at the idea that it would make her this idiotically happy. "Pervert."

He found Aramis drinking and brooding. That in itself wasn't so unusual. If Valmonts were good at anything other then sex, it was brooding. It was the look in his eyes that told Sebastian that a few more pushes would have him right where they wanted him. Pushes that Sebastian was all to happy to supply.

"So, just out of curiosity, why did she marry him?"

"Pardon?"

"Why did Tiffany marry my father? If she just wanted to marry a Valmont, why not you?"

"Tiffany is like the wind. Trying to understand her is futile."

Sebastian could tell that he was lying. He knew exactly why she had done it, but didn't want to admit it. "Oh, come on! Twenty five years, and you can't even hazard a guess?

Aramis glared at him, tears in his eyes. "No! Now drop it!" Sebastian frowned at him. Did he look that fucking pathetic when he was 'crying like a girl,' as Kathryn so delicately put it?

"If this were Kathryn," Sebastian said, as if talking to himself, "she would probably marry someone else if she thought they could elevate her status. But Dad's reputation is only slightly better than yours. In for a penny, in for a pound. Why marry a guy you don't love with a bad reputation when you can marry the guy you've been banging for a quarter century who has a slightly worse reputation. There's money, since Dad has control of the company and is richer then you, but somehow I think that's only part of the story. It was _you_, wasn't it? She wanted to hurt you by marrying your cousin. Did you do something that she felt she needed to punish you for? Or was it just to put you in your place and make sure you stayed there."

Aramis got up and stalked towards Sebastian, who just stood there smirking in the certainty that he was right. The older man's face was contorted with rage. "You know nothing about it!"

"If you say so," he said cheerfully before walking out, leaving his enraged cousin staring after him. He heard glass shatter and figured that Aramis had thrown his glass. Why did people always insist on throwing things at him?

Kathryn awoke to the sound of footsteps, but didn't open her eyes. She never opened her eyes immediately upon awakening, and she was glad to have that habit right now as she realized whose footsteps she was hearing. She knew that it was her mother by the sound her heels made on the polished floor. She had fallen asleep in Sebastian's bed again, holding the picture that he used to keep next to it, but that had been hidden in the top drawer of the nightstand for the past week. She heard her mother snort in disgust to find her there, but she kept her eyes closed and pretended to still be asleep. She knew that Tiffany was looking at the picture, still clutched in her hand. It was of Kathryn and Sebastian in the park. He had brought out his tripod because he wanted pictures of them together, pictures in which they weren't pretending to be siblings or plastered all over the tabloids. They were supposed to be looking at the camera, but they hadn't been. Later, Sebastian claimed that there had been a bug on her shoulder and he had simply been trying to brush it away. She turned look at him. He was looking at her neck, his arm tightening around her waist to pull her closer, while the fingers of his other hand were stroking the skin of her shoulder. The picture was taken in that instant.

That photo had told the whole story. They weren't siblings – had never really been siblings. They weren't fuck buddies or friends with benefits or confidants. They were beyond that. They were lovers. Deny it all they wanted, but the chemistry and passion between jumped off the picture like an electric charge, and behind that was something even deeper. It made Kathryn ache to look at it, made her miss him more. And she already missed him enough. She missed his hands, his lips, his tongue, the sound of his voice, the way he said her name when he was aroused, his eyes, his cock. She had hated telling him to stay in Paris until he finished what he'd gone to do, but it would only be for a little while. She had faith in his ability to do what was necessary as quickly as possible so that he could come back home. Back to her.

"Foolish girl," she heard her mother hiss softly before turning and walking away. She opened her eyes after a few minutes, hoping that she could figure out a way to make sure that her mother would stay put long enough for him to bring Aramis to them. But even if she didn't stick around, she was sure they could find a way to make her come back. Especially once Aramis started making threats.

* * *

"Sebastian!"

He turned to see Aramis striding purposefully down the hall towards him despite the dark circles around his eyes that stood out against his pallid skin. The man definitely looked frayed around the edges, and didn't seem to have slept much the night before. "Good morning. You look like shit."

"I'm coming with you."

Sebastian raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had been hoping for this after realizing that his cousin had stayed up all night drinking absinthe and smoking. Not only did it mean that they're plan was going faster than they anticipated, it also meant that he wouldn't have a screaming fight with Kathryn when he showed up despite her explicitly telling him not to. He could think of a lot of things he'd rather do with Kathryn then have a screaming fight so his cousin tagging along would definitely be a win/win for him. But with each passing moment, the chances of Aramis suddenly announcing that he would come with him had been dwindling and Sebastian had almost given up hope. "Okay."

"I bought a ticket a few minutes ago. Henry is packing my things. I'll be ready in ten minutes."

Sebastian shrugged. "It's your funeral."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Tiffany will have a hissy fit."

"Let me worry about Tiffany. Besides weren't you the one who said I needed to teach her a lesson? I'm Aramis fucking Valmont."

"And what about my father, your cousin,_ Edward_fucking Valmont? You remember him, don't you?"

"I just spoke to Eddie. He's still in the Bahamas, getting acquainted with a twenty three year old gold digger. I think it will be a few days before he's bored."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered and walked away as he reflected on how completely fucked up his family was. He was talking to his cousin about his cousin's mistress, who just happened to be his stepmother while his father was off fucking some woman barely five years his senior. He almost didn't blame Kathryn for being skittish about getting involved with him. Who in their right mind would willingly associate with a Valmont? He'd almost trade all his money to be named Smith. Almost.

Once he was outside, he dug out the disposable cell phone and called Kathryn. She had the phone off, which meant that Tiffany was lurking around somewhere. "I'm coming back today with a guest. Make sure everything's ready."

This was really happening, he thought as a familiar thrill of excitement ran through him. If Kathryn was anywhere nearby, he'd have pinned her against a wall by now. He briefly wondered if they'd have time once he got home, but realized that they wouldn't. They'd be too busy making sure things kept spiraling out of control for Tiffany and Aramis. The excitement of a plan coming to fruition always made them both horny as hell but they'd just have to deal with the tension until it was finished.

* * *

"That's my boy," Kathryn said softly to herself with a satisfied smile after retrieving Sebastian's message. She called Tuttle.

"Hello, princess. How can I be of service?"

"It starts tonight. Is everything ready?"

"I was born ready."

"Tuttle, when this happens, it's going to happen fast. There's no room for error."

"Princess! This is me. When was the last time I made a mistake?"

She smiled. "I guess you are pretty close to perfection. For a queer."

"Bitch," he hissed playfully.

* * *

_A/N: I realized that in an earlier chapter, I mistakenly described Tiffany has having dark hair, but she is actually blond, with gray eyes. Sorry about that little slip up._

_Hey, __**DSMelody**__… I haven't heard from you since you said you were fighting the flu over a month ago. Just wanted to make sure you were still alive._

_**Kerimack**, I really am glad to see that you're writing again. Anyway, my girl Kathryn still has her claws and her unique tough as nails take on life. Love ain't makin' that go away. As for Tiffany, I was starting to channel Glen Close's Marquise Merteuil __from _Dangerous Liaisons_ with her, so I just thought why the hell not give__ her a Valmont too?_

_I really don't have to do that much work, __**Kaila**__. Sebastian + Kathryn + sex HOT! It's really hard to screw up. I'm glad you're still enjoying it._


	21. Eight

**Chapter 20  
Eight**

Eight days. That's how long it had taken for Kathryn and Sebastian to engineer the self-destruction of Aramis and Tiffany. Sebastian turned it over in his mind as he settled into the leather seat of the plane, marveling at what a lethal combination they were. Eight days since they 'broke up,' after he had sent all the servants away for the day except Mai-Lee because they didn't know for sure which were spying for Tiffany. Seven days since Sebastian had arrived in Paris to drug his cousin and prey on his vulnerabilities. Five days since he had begun to see the effects of the drugs. Four days since Kathryn had determined exactly which servants were informing Tiffany of their activities. Three days since Kathryn had managed to turn them all and get them to report Kathryn's increasing 'depression' following Sebastian's 'disappearance.' Less than twenty four hours since he and Aramis had witnessed the argument between Kathryn and the Gorgon.

He wondered idly who he'd have to bribe if Aramis was injured or killed at some point and a tox screen was performed. He didn't worry that it would be a problem. Everyone had a price, from the totally upright to the utterly depraved. Even he had a price, one thing that he would sell his very soul for, if in fact he had a soul at all, and he knew exactly what it was. What did bother him was the fact that Tiffany had to know that he and Kathryn were fucking before the tabloid pictures. She had spies, so she had to have heard about it. It wasn't as if they had been discreet, though in hindsight they probably should have. Knowing that bitch, she had probably not cared because she thought they were going to keep their relationship a secret, just as she and Aramis had. As long as it wouldn't harm her precious reputation, why would she give a fuck what Kathryn did?

He turned to his cousin and studied him silently for a moment. He was pissed off and needed to take it out on someone. "You said earlier that Tiffany only slept with you to renew your loyalties," he said. A cruel child picking at the newly formed scab of another. Poking a fresh wound with a sharp stick.

Aramis looked at him, his eyes still hidden behind his five hundred dollar sun glasses, a small smile on his lips. "You're enjoying this far too much," he said simply. Just because he was drugged and borderline psychotic didn't mean that he was stupid.

Sebastian returned his smile and shrugged. "Misery loves company and all that."

The older man let out a dry laugh that held just the edge of hysteria. "Yes, well, you know how it is for us. Sex is about pleasure… but it's about more too. Power, control, dominance – all play their parts. Tiffany and I had a certain power over each other, a balance. Or at least I thought we did. I knew that she was fucking me to ensure my loyalty, just like she knew I was fucking her because I enjoyed being the only man who could dominate her in that way, that could make her feel… something. Beyond the sex though, the actual relationship we had? I thought that we were equals. Two halves." He frowned and turned away.

"Is such a thing even possible? Equality in a relationship," Sebastian mused, giving the wound another poke. He got no answer other than a heavy sigh. He hadn't really expected one. It was enough to know it hurt, that his sharp stick had found its mark and drawn blood. He turned to the window and smiled. He loved flying almost as much as he loved maliciously ripping a life apart. In fact there was only one thing that he loved more than even that. Kathryn. He couldn't believe how much he missed her.

"Is it true, Sebastian? Did Tiffany really allow that bastard to touch Kathryn?" He was asking about what he'd heard Kathryn say the day before, about Tiffany's second husband.

Sebastian turned back towards him, frowning and feigning ignorance. "Kathryn didn't seem like she was lying. Tiffany didn't correct her or even look surprised by the accusation."

"You know, there was a time when I wondered if Kathryn was mine," he said wistfully.

The younger Valmont had chosen that moment to take a sip of his Champaign and quickly regretted it as he inhaled rather than swallowed, leading to a coughing fit. He pressed his handkerchief to his lips as he tried to get himself under control, eyes stinging and watering. That had been the last thing that he expected to hear, even though he probably should have wondered when he learned that his cousin and step mother had been lovers, how _long_ they had been lovers. He only had two boundaries. No girls under fifteen and no relatives. He had even forced a guy to suck his cock and swallow his cum once, blackmailed him into it just to humiliate him, which had been the sole turn on since he was definitely nowhere near gay. It was probably a bad idea to do it right in front of Blaine the way he had since it had put into his head the idea that it was at least possible for Sebastian to enjoy sex with a man, but what was done was done. The idea that Kathryn could possibly be related to him was disturbing.

Aramis laughed at his reaction. "Don't worry. She's not. But even though I haven't been around her much, and she's not mine, I still have a soft spot for her. I can't believe Tiffany would do something that…" his voice trailed away.

"Unforgivable? Kathryn would have had to be, what, somewhere between the ages of 9 and 14?"

Aramis cringed. "That's horrific."

_Yes_, Sebastian thought. _Horrific. Perfectly sums up that bitch you've been fucking for the better part of your life._

* * *

Sebastian left his bags in the limo as he strode into the house and straight for the dinning room. Tiffany and Kathryn were there, eating silently. They were both so anal about when meals were to be served that it would have shocked him if they weren't there. The tension could be cut with a hack saw.

Kathryn looked at him, her face the perfect balance of shock, anger and longing. God, she should have been an actress. "Sebastian?"

"What the hell are you doing here," Tiffany asked.

"I live here," he said as if he were speaking to a two year old. If she was this upset to see him, just wait till she got a load of who was right behind him.

"You're not welcome here. Not after what you did to my daughter. I'm shocked that you even have the nerve to show your face here!"

He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Kathryn, completely ignoring Tiffany. "Can I speak to you?"

"I don't think there's anything to say," Kathryn said coldly, focusing on her plate.

He walked over to the table and sat down beside her. "Please, Kathryn? I was scared and I was stupid. I'm sorry. I swear it will never happen again."

Her head shot up and she stared at him. Her face was still carefully schooled to hide her emotions because her mother could see part of it, but her eyes were smoldering. He felt himself melting inside, but he kept his visible reactions under control.

"You definitely are stupid if you think that this little show of contrition will work," Tiffany spoke up again, trying desperately to strengthen her daughter's resolve.

"Why don't you leave them alone?"

Tiffany's head snapped up to see Aramis in the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

"I do not have time to deal with you right now, Aramis. Please leave."

"I'm tired of you 'dealing' with me. I have a few things I need to say to you. We can either do this in private or with an audience."

Tiffany's eyes grew wide. She didn't seem to know what to make of Aramis' sudden willfulness. Sebastian watched her as she made her split second decision, never doubting what her choice would be. She could either protect her daughter from what she thought was a genuine threat, or save herself from possible exposure. Of course, there was no contest. "Fine. We'll go to the sitting room," she said as she led him out of the dining room with no further preamble.

Once the two were gone, Sebastian turned to Kathryn, "Where can we watch?"

"Storage room," She said as she got up and headed for the side entrance. The storage room was off the garage, and where all the surveillance equipment had been set up. It was the one place that Kathryn was sure that Tiffany would never go.

Sebastian followed her, watching her hips sway and trying not to think about how much he just wanted to carry her up to his room. There would be time for that later. By the time they reached the monitors in the far end of the storage room, Tiffany and Aramis were already in a screaming match.

* * *

"…dare you come to my home and threaten me?"

"All I ever wanted to do was take care of you, and you treat me like a fucking pet."

"You do take care of me. But right now you're doing the exact opposite! What if Edward came home…"

"I'm his cousin. If you hadn't made such a big deal of shunning me in front of him, there would be nothing to explain, would there?"

"What the hell has gotten into you?"

"What… what if I said that I just needed to be near you." His voice was soft now, almost pleading and he touched her arm softly.

She pulled her arm away. "Contain yourself!"

His face hardened and he grabbed her arms and pulled her against his body forcefully. Sebastian hated to admit it, but the two were hot together and, as he sat so close to Kathryn while watching them, he felt himself stiffen. "That's exactly why I'm here. I'm tired of 'containing' myself. All I ever wanted was you, Tiffany. But then you know that, don't you? Always counted on it to get me to do whatever you want."

"You want everything in a skirt."

"This is different. You know this is different. I can't even stay interested in any other woman for twenty five days, let alone twenty five years."

"This obsession of yours with me used to be amusing, but now you're overstepping."

"Overstepping? That's something we have in common, my dear."

"You're talking in circles!"

"Then let me speak plainly. I've come here for a reason. To collect what I'm owed."

"That was supposed to clear everything up? I know you French all like to dabble in the existential, but this is ridiculous! Even for you. What exactly do you think I owe you?"

"Respect, Tiffany."

"Oh, I see. You storm in here like a petulant child and throw a tantrum, all in the effort to gain my respect. Brilliant plan."

He kissed her suddenly and she melted into him for an instant before seeming to remember where she was and that she was angry with him and pushing him away. "Is that what you want? You want to fuck me Aramis? In Edwards house?" Her voice was cool, malicious. Poisonous.

"No," he said, his tone matching hers, except there was something else there. Rage? Yes, rage, Sebastian thought. Just under the surface and barely contained. He thought back to Kathryn's words. This was definitely no game. "I want to destroy you."

"Aramis, you're hurting me!" She tried to pull away from his grasp.

"I've only just begun hurting you. You're like an onion. There's nothing there underneath all your layers is there? Nothing solid, nothing real. You're not even human."

Sebastian could tell from the look on her face, even over the too small monitor, that she was afraid and he could see the desperation in the one eighty she pulled, making her voice conciliatory as she pressed against him. She was starting to feel threatened. "Aramis, darling, you're just like me." She stretched up to kiss his jaw, just underneath his ear.

Rather then calming him, her behavior seemed to feed into his rage and he shoved her against the wall. "Still trying to handle me, bitch? I'm done being handled."

"What do you want?"

"I already told you what I want. The entire world will know what I know. And I know everything. I know how you drugged poor innocent Noelle. How you're still drugging her right underneath Edward's nose. I know about every life you've destroyed, every innocent you've ruined. I know where every fucking body is buried."

Her eyes widened, a look of betrayal flitted across her features. "You wouldn't!"

"I will."

"Why? Why would you do that to me?"

"Because I loved you and you used that. You used _me_, Tiffany. Not even you can get away with that." He turned and began walking towards the door.

"No, wait. Do you want me to leave Edward for you? We can go away together."

He looked at her in disgust. "And how long before I go missing? You've played me for a fool and I've threatened you… I know what that means. We're at war now and there will be no truces between us. We're both far too vengeful to allow that. I know you think that I'm easily manipulated but please don't insult me by pretending otherwise."

As he resumed his trek to the door and opened it, Sebastian and Kathryn watched as Tiffany went to Edwards desk and pulled out his gun. "You won't go missing, Aramis. They'll know exactly where to find you."

"That didn't take long," Sebastian muttered while he watched.

He froze in the open doorway when he heard the click of the safety. Slowly he turned to face her. There was a malicious smile on her face. "You're going to _shoot_ me?"

"You assaulted me, Aramis. I just did what I needed to do. The bruises from your fingers digging into my arm should do nicely to support the fact that you flew into a rage and attacked me. I bet I'll have bruises on my back too, where you slammed me against the wall. You always did like to mark me, didn't you?"

* * *

"What is it with you Valmonts and leaving bruises," Kathryn said under her breath.

"Yeah, because I don't have a thousand scratches and bites from you."

"Self defense."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

* * *

"You would actually kill me?" Aramis' incredulous question drew their attention back to the drama in the parlor.

"Did you really think that I would let you walk out of here after everything you just said? You of all people should have known better than that." She pulled the trigger and hit him a little too high and to the left to be fatal. He staggered, but didn't fall. She pulled it again and it clicked.

Aramis' knees gave and he fell, hard, onto them, still staring at Tiffany. "I can't believe you just shot me." A hand went to his shoulder and came away bloody. "You fucking shot me…" He passed out then, most of his body laying outside the parlor.

* * *

Sebastian had been holding his breath. "You took the other bullets out."

Kathryn looked up at him. "Would you have rather I didn't?"

He looked at her, considering it. Aramis dead potentially meant Tiffany on death row. But Kathryn had been right. He didn't want to be responsible for an actual death, let alone two. That was no fun. Death meant that you could no longer torture someone. Fifteen to life in a state pen… now that was punishment. Especially for someone like Tiffany. It also meant that there would still be ways of getting to her and making her suffer more. "No," he said, smiling. "I think I like it better like this."

She returned his smile. "That's my Valmont. You get taunting rights. I'll make the copy while I call 911 and be up in a few minutes."

Sebastian kissed her soundly. "I'm going to fuck your gorgeous brains out the minute this is finished," he said before bounding out of the room and up the stairs, a cheerful smile on his face. He found Tiffany standing over Aramis' unconscious form. She didn't seem to notice him as he came to a stop next to her, looking at his prone cousin.

"Your aim is utterly dreadful. Maybe you should have practiced more," he said casually. "Were you trying to shot him in the head or the heart? Honestly, I can't tell."

"You set this up, didn't you? You and Kathryn. This was all staged." Her voice was flat as she continued to stare at her former lover – at least Sebastian hoped his cousin had enough pride to write the bitch off after this. She didn't seem surprised by his voice, as if she'd known he was there all along.

He smiled at her. "Yes. You should be careful who you screw over. Your mistake was that you didn't crush us, or at least neutralize us in some way. You really should have had me shipped off to military school when you had the chance."

She laughed. "Believe me, I tried. I didn't think Kathryn hated me this much."

"Oh, she does. This was mostly my idea, but Kathryn was more than willing to help. The break up was her idea. To make you think there was no way that we could be a threat, and so that you wouldn't get suspicious to learn that I'd visited my dearly almost departed cousin."

"How did you know?"

"The only way to insure that a secret is kept is if only one person knows it. Two people is risky, three is dangerous. A whole house full of servants is, well, just plain stupid."

"What else do you know?"

Sebastian pulled a vial out of his pocket and waved it at her. "Remember this? This shit works incredibly fast. But I'm sure you know that already. I had Aramis ready to throw you to the wolves in a week."

"You _drugged_ him?"

"I needed him to throw you under a bus as readily as you would him. He's a Valmont. Loyalty is one of our biggest weaknesses. Too bad he chose the wrong person to give it to."

"What happens now?"

"You go to jail."

She looked at him incredulously. "You can't be serious."

"Yes… but only because killing the two of you would be too easy."

"No… you can't! You can't send me to jail!"

"I suggest you plead temporary insanity. Not sure how far it'll get you, but still. We corrupted the audio, so no one can hear what's being said, so all your secrets are safe. For now."

Tiffany looked at him sharply. It was the first time she'd looked directly at him. "For now?"

He laughed. "You of all people should know how this game is played. We're saving all the little admissions for later. Just in case you get any cute ideas. Then we'll leak the video to the press. Just remember… no matter how bad things get for you Tif, they can always get worse. We'll make sure of that."

"You _taped_ it?"

He snorted. "Of course we did. We're not new at this."

"You think the two of you are equals? You're just as much her pet as he was mine."

He smirked. "Yes, I am her pet. And she's mine. I keep her warm, she keeps me cool. Perfect balance. Too bad you and Aramis never had that. It would have been infinitely more satisfying to pull it apart if you had. We still managed to destroy the only person you actually do give a damn about – you. It'll just have to do. You know, it's times like this that I wish I believed in hell, because then I'd just send you there. You see, every breath you take _offends_ me. But I need to make sure you suffer for as long as your mind and body can take it. So you get to live. And he," Sebastian pointed at Aramis, "gets to watch your entire life shatter and know that it was all his fault. He gets to know that you were willing to kill him. He gets to fully realize what damn fool he has been for most of his life."

There was a knock at the door.

Sebastian smiled brightly. "Oh… there's the police, here to haul you away. How lovely."

"Or the ambulance." She was looking down at Aramis.

"Absolutely _appalling_ aim," he muttered to himself as he went to answer the door.

"Do you really think this is the end of me?"

He paused and smirked, "yes, actually, I do." He walked away, Tiffany glaring after him. Kathryn was calmly waiting for him just outside the hall. "Is everything ready?"

"Blaine corrupted all the audio on the hard drive. I have a copy for us with the sound, and Blaine made one too. That should be the police answering my frantic 911 call."

Sebastian smiled as they went to answer the door. "I'm not letting you out of bed for a week once this is done. We can tell everyone that we're too distraught to leave the house. Ready?"

She nodded, a fresh sheen of tears already glistening in her eyes. The police were greeted by an appropriately upset and agitated looking Kathryn and Sebastian. Kathryn was even shedding tears now, despite that Sebastian knew that she wanted to laugh at him. She always did when he was mimicking distress because she said he was always so over the top, chewing scenery. 'But I wouldn't want you to change,' she'd said, 'because you're always a drama queen. If you didn't chew the scenery everyone would know that something was off.' He'd glared at her, even though he knew she was right. He really was a bit… theatrical.

Sometimes Sebastian was at a loss as to how to address Kathryn, how to introduce her to other people. Girlfriend just seemed so… mundane. Far too pedestrian to even being to describe them. Lover was too casual. Stepsister who I just happen to be fucking was just wrong. Not because he didn't enjoy shocking people. Shocking people had always been one of Sebastian's favorite things to do. Pleasing Kathryn, control, shocking people and sex, in that order, was what he lived for. Though pleasing Kathryn and control had occasional been tied or switched in his order of priorities over the years. Kathryn usually won out though. But right now, he was stumbling over trying to tell the police who she was and settled for just her name, deciding that anything more would just either necessitate a long explanation, and earn them _that look_. The one that made him feel homicidal and reminded him, and more importantly reminded Kathryn, that just because the sheep at high school had accepted them with some creative spinning, didn't mean that all the adult sheep would do the same. That they would in any way understand what they were to each other.

"I have no idea what transpired before the gunshot, officer. As I said before, Kathryn and I were… otherwise engaged," Sebastian offered innocently after a several minutes of questioning as he watched his cousin being wheeled to the ambulance. Then he added, as if it had just occurred to him, "would you like to see the security recordings?"

Sebastian led the police to the computer in the storage room and found the correct feed. They watched the entire argument between Tiffany and Aramis, watched Tiffany get the gun, threaten Aramis, watched Aramis threaten to expose her and name some of her more dastardly deeds, watched her calmly shoot him and then try again only to find that there had only been one bullet. However, they heard none of the accompanying audio, just an annoying hissing sound.

Sebastian fought a smile as he watched her look at Aramis, then at the prematurely empty gun. He knew that was instant she realized that she had been played. She screamed in rage. Sebastian arrived at that moment, standing just outside of camera range. You could still see Tiffany though, looking like she was going into shock.

Sebastian made his face crumple and his eyes tear up. "I can't believe… she was such a kind person. My father loved her so much. How could she?" He pressed a hand against his mouth and shook his head, not sure how much longer he could go without laughing, as he blinked away crocodile tears.

One of the female officers put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, sir."

"Sebastian, please call me Sebastian." He looked down at her, expending a little more effort than he would have liked to appear distraught, knowing that if he wanted her he could have her before the sun set. He didn't want her, but it was still nice to know that if he did he could have her on her knees begging him to fuck her harder in half an hour. Forty five minutes if he took his time. "I can't take watching much more of this. Can I leave now?"

Kathryn was waiting for him in the hall. They watched the cops leave, taking a now quietly fuming Tiffany and a copy of the surveillance footage with them. She looked paler than usual, but otherwise she didn't seem much disturbed by her mother's fate. "Well played, Valmont."

He smiled broadly at the compliment. "Why thank you. You weren't so bad yourself Merteuil. Your mother really does have attrocious aim." He spared a glance at the blood stain that marked where Aramis had fallen after being shot.

"True. But Aramis is definitely the worse for the wear."

"I suppose the one person in the world you care about trying to kill you would be a hard thing to live with." He kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

"For?"

"You kept me from falling apart. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

"That's me," she said dryly as he slipped his hand in hers and their fingers laced together. "Your moral compass."

"God, now there's a frightening thought."

"We really are going to hell, aren't we?"

"If there is one, definitely. But don't worry, baby," he kissed her hand, "we'll be running the joint in not time."

He led her up to her bedroom. Just as he closed the door and pushed her roughly against it, his phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at the caller id.

"You can't seriously be considering answering that."

"It's Tuttle. If I don't answer, he'll think we're all dead and come over. You know how he gets."

She groaned in resignation even as she began sucking and nibbling his neck.

He flipped open the phone, trying to keep his voice study. "Everything's fine. Went according to pla-an."

"Is he dead?"

"No. _Oh fuck_!" Kathryn was squeezing him through his pants. He let his head fall forward, banging his forehead against the door.

"Sebastian? What is it?" A brief pause. Followed by a suspicious whisper. "Are you… are you and Kathryn…"

"It's been eight fucking days, man! What the hell do you think? Call you later." He snapped the phone closed impatiently and tossed it across the room. Running his fingers through her beautiful long brown hair before curling them around thick handfuls, he pulled her head away from his neck and kissed her hungrily.

"You really weren't with anyone else."

"No," he said between the kisses he was trailing down the front of her neck. "I promised."

She pushed him away. "What are you talking about?"

"Every time we fuck, it's a promise. I know you feel it too. You haven't been fucking around either."

She looked at him, her brow furrowed, for a few seconds before pulling his mouth back to hers. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. She smirked up at him when he sat her down gently and began undressing. "I certainly hope you're not planning on being gentle."

He returned her smirk. "Gentle? After eight days? There's absolutely no fucking way in hell."

Doggie style used to be Sebastian's favorite position. There was something about having a woman on her knees that had always appealed to him. But with Kathryn, they ironically often ended up in the missionary position or one of its many variants. Oh, they were always trying other positions and he calculated that they were about twenty percent of the way through the Karma Sutra's massive list. They were both sexually adventurous and extremely limber with staggering amounts of stamina, experience and imagination so sex was never dull. For some reason, though, they both seemed prefer facing each other. There were times when he just wanted to bend her over something – a desk, a coffee table, a chair – and run his fingers over the soft smooth skin of her back, cup her breasts, pull her hair, spank her, hold her hips. Or the times when he wanted her on her knees and he'd push her face into the mattress, dominating her the way she never allowed any other man to dominate her because in his mind, that she would allow it and even get off on it proved that she really did love him. Sometimes, she would ride him while he sat or lay down. That had always been her favorite position – dominance.

But, on average, she would let him be in control – and Sebastian was very well aware of the fact that she was allowing it. That their partnership would never survive if he ever tried to force his dominance, tried to subjugate her in anyway. Everything between them had to be mutually if silently agreed on in order to pacify their massive need to be in control in some form or another. So whenever Kathryn submitted to him it was a conscious decision. She would submit and he would usually give her whatever he sensed she wanted. Hard, fast, slow, gentle. Whatever would get her off and make her give him _that look_. Not the look that people gave them when they realized that they were stepsiblings who fucked each other, but the one that he swore was adoration and need and gratitude all wrapped up in searing passion. God, how he loved that look. Would do anything to get it. He imagined that it had never been in those green eyes before that first time he was inside of her. That was why he wanted to face her most of the time, to make sure he it.

There wasn't much thought put into what they would do this time. Not the way it usually had been, when she or Sebastian would want to act out some long held fantasy. No… by the time they'd managed to get their clothes off, it was all groping and grasping and passion and dueling tongues and thrusting hips. They were both out of control and Sebastian wondered how she managed to do that to him. He had never been out of control before… only with Kathryn. She was the only woman who could manage to bring out this sense of _desperation_ in him. Desperation to be touched, to be as deeply inside her as possible, to make it last as long as his years of experience would allow, to make her cum, to make her need him as much as he needed her. And there was no doubt about it, he did need her the way he needed water or air or food. As much as he'd told her he needed her, he had still held back some of it because, Sebastian being Sebastian, he felt like he needed to keep something for himself, some scrap of dignity no matter how small.

They were both gripping the sheets for dear life as Sebastian's tenuous grip on rational thought slipped away. They weren't teasing each other or engaging in anything that could pass for conversation, even vulgar conversation aimed at titillation. They were reduced to grunts and one word declarations, with the occasional two word declaration thrown in for good measure. Please… fuck… harder… yes… don't stop… deeper… so tight… fuck me… oh god… that's it… uh… ugh… more… Kathryn… Sebastian. He press the length of his body against her, relishing the feel of her skin against his, lost in her wetness, her tightness, her smell. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth was slack, all his energy diverted and focused on a single thing… trying to, as literally as possible, fuck his soon to be ex-stepsister's brains out. He felt her teeth bite into his shoulder and that was the end of him. He came loudly and was relieved when she followed immediately after. When he realized that he couldn't hold back any longer, he had been afraid that he would have to give her a little extra help. Not that he didn't want to – he enjoyed the way she tasted after he fucked her. The way _they_ tasted, mingled together. But he just wasn't sure that he had the energy right now. Moving at all seemed about as feasable right now as picking up her four poster and carrying it downstairs.

Eight days, he thought, with a sigh that was meant to be a chuckle. God help them both if they ever needed to be apart for longer than that. They may not survive the reunion.

_

* * *

_

A/N: sorry this took so long. I am working on a project and I've been editing – which, by the way, really_, really sucks._

_**Kerimack**__… LOL! I absolutely cannot get Glen Close out of my head as Tiffany now. Hope this chapter helps with the K&S withdrawals and that you think the revenge was served cold enough. ;D_

_Thank __**Kaila**__! I hope you enjoy this update._


	22. Ties

**Ties**

"Hi Dad."

Kathryn lay in her bed, wrapped in nothing but a sheet, as she listened to Sebastian stretch two syllables into four as he paced next to her bed. She smirked at him and he rolled his eyes as he turned his back on her. She knew that she wasn't exactly helping, but god, he was so hopeless sometimes.

"No… no… Kathryn and I are fine. It's Tiffany." A pause and she could tell that he was trying not to laugh. "Nothing went wrong with that. Actually, I don't think she ever had the chance to get her nose done." Another pause. "She's been arrested." A short pause. "Attempted murder, I believe." He turned and smiled at her as he listened to whatever his father was saying, or asking. "Aramis."

He stretched out on the bed next to her, his back against the headboard, wearing nothing but his boxers. They would probably both be naked, except the door was open so that one of the maids could bring them the Champaign Sebastian had sent for. "He'll be fine. Honestly, she's got to be the worst marksman I've ever seen Dad. Got him in the shoulder." He listened patiently and rolled his eyes. "There's always more, Dad. But I think its best you come home before I tell you." He moved the phone away from his ear and waited for his father to finish yelling. Valmonts did a lot of yelling when they were pissed off, Kathryn noted. "Trust me on this. Whatever you're thinking is probably wrong. You just need to get back as soon as possible."

A maid came in with a tray holding a bottle of Champaign in a bucket of ice and two flutes just as he was hanging up.

"Close the door on your way out," Kathryn said dismissively before turning to Sebastian. "Well?"

"He'll be on the first flight out. You really should be nice to the servants, you know. Someone may use them against us."

She shrugged. "We can just kill them all."

"Ha. Seriously, Kat, we do need to be careful. It's not like we don't already have our fair share of powerful enemies."

"I know. We'll figure out how to deal with the servants and anyone stupid enough to come after us."

"Do you think he'll want to bring Noelle home?"

Sebastian studied her silently. "I'm hoping. But right now," he said with a smile as he glanced at the ice bucket, "I'm thinking of all the things I'd like to do with this ice."

"Is that so?" She smiled, allowing him to escape dealing with reality for once. She knew he was scared. Sometimes getting everything you want was frightening. What if it wasn't what you were expecting? What if didn't work out? No matter how well things were going, hope could still be the most dangerous thing in the world.

She let him pull the sheets off her with one hand as he picked a piece of ice out of the bucket. He began slowly tracing it along her skin, the heat from her body melting it. He started at her lips, down her chin, the front of her throat, along her collar bone, down to her breasts where he teased her nipples with it until it melted to nothing. He grabbed another ice cube and continued his downward journey, running it along her belly button until it was a small inland lake, down to her trimmed cunt. He rubbed it against her clit as she began to buck her hips and moan in earnest. He smiled up at her. The ice cube was mostly gone so he dropped it and grabbed a replacement. Just as she was about to cum, he slid the cube lower, to her opening and pushed it inside her. Her eyes went wide at the sensation. He pulled another handful out of the bucket, and they all disappeared in quick succession inside her. He kneeled between her legs and quickly entered her.

"Fuck, Valmont," she hissed as she pulled at his short hair, her small fingers trying to find purchase.

"Like that," he asked as he began pounding into her, the sound of their flesh and the ice cubes slapping together filling the room.

"Oh, yeah… I definitely like that."

The ice cold water from the melting cubes spilled out of her with every thrust, sending shivers up her spine. He bent his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking it. Without warning, he bit it and pulled it hard with his teeth. She yelped and came, more cold water. He smiled up at her before taking her aching and rigid nipple into his mouth and sucking it soothingly before moving to the other. She was on the edge of another orgasm soon and he pulled away from her breast to kiss her again. Then he was hovering over her, balanced on his knees and one hand as he slapped one of her breasts and pinched the nipple with the other.

"Fuck, you feel good," he ground out. "Tight, wet and cold." He grabbed her ankles and bent her in half, her thighs pressing against her breasts. He was in deeper now. She couldn't hear the ice, but she could still feel the cold water seeping out. How fucking much was there?

"That's it, Sebastian… fuck me good," she encouraged as she held her own legs in position. He moved his hands, one fingering her clit and the other at the back of her head pulling her hair. She came again, followed by Sebastian. His hot cum spilling into her felt almost searing after the ice.

He pulled out and gently eased her legs down so that she was lying flat. With his thumbs, he began messaging the area on her thighs that he seemed to know was sore from the stretching. "Ever done that before?" She could feel his breath against her ear and she turned her head and found herself looking into his clear blue eyes.

"No."

He smiled, almost preening, the way he always did when he discovered something that she had never tried with someone else. He rolled over, flopping onto his back. "I think we'd better sleep in my bed. We got this one all wet."

It was morning, and they'd just finished having sex… again. They were snuggling, _spooning_ was actually what it was called and Kathryn simply added it to the growing list of things that she did now as a matter of course that she had once sworn she would rather die than ever do. She was playing with the fingers of one of his hands as he ran the other lazily along her thigh. "Aramis said that he wondered if you were his kid." Kathryn froze under his touch. "Don't worry. You're not."

"Are you sure?"

She swore that she could feel him shrug behind her. "If I weren't, I wouldn't have told you."

She turned to look at him. "Excuse me? I thought I just heard you say that you'd hide the fact that we're related from me."

His fingers dug into her hip, to keep her from running away. He knew her too well. "We're not related, so it's not a fact. Just a mere possibility. But if it were, yes, I would hide it. You would care about it more then I would, and it's not like we're planning on actually reproducing. Even if we did there wouldn't be much risk since we'd only be second cousins. It's legal to marry _first_ cousins in half the damn country. Hell, most of your society cronies are so inbred, they probably have webbed feet."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?"

He blinked at her and sighed heavily. "Because it wouldn't be a big deal, Kathryn." He drew out syllables her name slightly, the way he always did when he was frustrated with her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What other things are you hiding from me to keep me from leaving you?"

"I'm not hiding anything!"

She saw something in his eyes for a split second. So fleeting that she almost didn't catch it. "Sebastian," she said through clinched teeth, her voice low and threatening.

He sighed and flopped over onto his back dramatically. Drama queen, she thought. "I fucked Ann a few times after the break up."

"You _what_? Why?"

"Because…" he hesitated and looked at her. "I still had feelings for her."

Even though Kathryn knew that, it still felt like someone had plunged a sharp knife into her heart. She turned away from him and sat on the edge of the bed. She felt him shift behind her and then he was touching her bare back. "Dorothy wears Chanel, doesn't she?"

There was a pause. She looked at him over her shoulder and saw him realize what he would be admitting to. The day after their first time together. The day of their second and third time, he'd come home smelling of Annette. He'd fucked them both, Annette sandwiched between his two times with Kathryn in that one day. He winced. "Yes."

She stood up and turned on him, anger blazing in her eyes. He was a Valmont, so she expected him to behave like a dog in heat on occasion, but damn! "What the fuck were you doing? Comparing us? 'Which one should I keep? The blond or the brunette?'" She heard the pain in her own voice, the tremor. She forced herself to stop talking until she could control it. It wasn't that he was screwing someone else… she had known that already. Even though she hated it, she had made her peace with it. It was _Annette_. Her mind involuntarily flashed back to the day he had broken up with her and come to collect on his 'winnings.' He'd been sitting in her room with a bottle of expensive Champaign, waiting for her to return form shopping, hidden in a corner behind the door, and nearly scared the hell out of her. His face was still wet from the tears he'd shed over that bitch and she just wanted to slap until he couldn't see straight. Instead, She told him that she didn't fuck losers. How he'd taken her seriously was beyond her. All she _ever_ fucked were losers. And the biggest loser in the room that day? That would have been her.

"God no, Kathryn!" He grabbed her arm before she could put a robe on in preparation to leave, pulling her out of the memory. "You're the one who said that I could fuck other women."

She glared at him and he sighed again. "Look, it's over. It has been for a long time. I haven't seen Annette since graduation, and I hadn't so much as touched her long before that. It's not like we were together or anything. It was only a couple of times. You're the only one I want, Kathryn. The only one I've always wanted. I kept it in my pants the entire time I was away from you."

"I suppose I should just be happy that Annette wasn't in Paris last week."

He growled something under his breath that sounded like 'fucking Annette.' Then, louder, "I swear to god, I wish I had never seen her."

"You're not the only one, sweetheart." She was trying to pull herself from his grasp, but he only tightened it.

"All things considered, Kathryn, this is _me_ we're talking about. On the scale of completely and utterly fucked up things I'm capable of doing, that was tame. It's not like I have her holed up in a villa somewhere waiting for me to come nail her whenever I get the fancy. Annette could have sneaked into my fucking room in Paris, bare assed naked, and I would have kicked her out."

She tried not to laugh at the image. "You would have kicked her out bare assed naked?"

He laughed. "Maybe I'd have given her a robe, but yeah, pretty much."

She stared at him silently for a long time. "You can't keep things from me, Sebastian. Even if you think it will piss me off. If you want me to trust you, there can't be secrets like this."

He sighed in relief. "Okay. No secrets. Starting right now." He held up a finger. "But it's a two way street, baby. You're not exactly Miss Transparency."

She nodded, ignoring the lump in her throat. Was that a promise either of them could keep? "I know. No secrets."

* * *

Tiffany's trial started in the fall, and she actually did take Sebastian's advice to plead temporary insanity. Unfortunately for her, it didn't work and she ended up staring at fifteen years. It seemed a bit inadequate after all the things she had done, but Kathryn quietly reminded Sebastian that they could still torment her both while she was still in jail and after she was released.

Aramis made a full recovery and returned to France after the trial. As far as they could determine, he had become a recluse. How long that would last was anyone's guess. Edward spent a great deal of time trying to find a loophole in their grandfather's trust that would allow him to kick Aramis out of the French estate and cut him off, but to no avail.

Noelle did come home. After Edward was satisfied that there would be no more incidents in the new clinic he'd moved her to in Maine. Edward, Kathryn and Sebastian had all agreed to redecorate the house in order to exorcise the last of Tiffany's presence. It was a project that ate up what was left of the summer and much of the fall. Kathryn ended up running the project, 

which was really no big surprise. What was a surprise was how much help Noelle turned out to be. They weren't going to decorate their home with fads and latest styles, so the fact that she still had to taste of a wealthy, intelligent and well traveled woman came in handy. Kathryn and Sebastian settled into a comfortable routine. People still came to Kathryn for advice and help. Sebastian took pictures and wrote short stories that he would read to his mother while Kathryn was in class, and to Kathryn in the evenings. He seemed to be warming up to the idea of writing and had even said that he'd been considering becoming a playwright.

Kathryn had also been getting closer to her father and half siblings. They visited back and forth often, beginning the weekend before she and Sebastian started school. Dinner at her father's house with Sebastian seated next to her teasing her step siblings. That was something that Kathryn never thought would happen in a million years. She and Sebastian had flown out to the Merteuil Los Angeles home where they'd been invited to spend the weekend with her father, stepmother two half-siblings.

Richard two other children– a ten year old daughter named Cameron, and an eight year old son named Jenson - where with his second wife Karen. Jenson had dark hair and hazel eyes, while Cameron had light brown hair and gray eyes. They seemed in awe their 'new' big sister, and Cameron was obviously head over heels in love with Sebastian.

"Are you and Kathryn going to get married," Cameron asked Sebastian bluntly.

Sebastian blushed, which made Kathryn laugh. "Congratulations, Cameron. I think that's the first time I've ever seen him actually blush."

Sebastian glared at her and she knew that he was dying to curse at her. "I'm not blushing. I'm just… it's a little warm in here," he muttered, tugging at his collar.

Richard spoke up. "I think that's an inappropriate question, young lady."

"But Daddy!"

"Don't but daddy me," he growled benignly, a small smile on his face.

"I was just wondering," the girl muttered under her breath.

Kathryn suddenly felt as if she couldn't breathe. This should have been her life. She should have been that innocent and naïve at 10, arguing with her father over a slightly forward question. "Excuse me," she muttered and rushed out of the room. She found the living room and went out to the patio. She stood leaning against the railing and trying to control her emotions.

She heard the sound of men's dress shoes on the patio. "Go the fuck away, Valmont. I want to be alone."

"It's me princess," her father said from behind her and she whirled around.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Sebastian's the one who usually follows me. He claims it's in his job description."

Richard smiled. "He tried. I told him I thought I should give it a shot. I know this is difficult. You suddenly have this whole new family and have to figure out where the hell you fit into it. I just want you to remember that this is your family Kathryn. You were part of it before you came here and you don't have to figure anything out."

"The only family I've had since I was six is Sebastian."

He nodded, sadness clouding his eyes. "I should have found a way. You did." She gave him a sharp look and he smiled. "I know you and Sebastian were behind what happened to Tiffany. Can you try to forgive me for not finding a way to get rid of her myself? Or at least not punish Cameron and Jenson? They've been dying to get to know their big sister all their lives. I think it would be a shame if they didn't get that chance."

"They knew about me?"

"Of course. I told them all about you. Showed them pictures. Told them stories about you as a child."

"What did you tell them?"

"How fearless and determined you were." He laughed. "Remember when you decided it was time you knew how to tie your own shoes? You kept at it for four hours. I swear I thought your little fingers were going to fall off. But you finally did it. I still remember that look on your face!"

She couldn't believe that he remembered that. _Fearless and determined_, she thought. _Yeah, that's me. That's why I'm hiding out on the balcony like some crybaby wishing I had grown up with my daddy_. "You're almost as bad as Sebastian with the mushiness," she said dryly, a small smile forming on her lips.

He shrugged. "Dad's are allowed to be mushy with their daughters. I'm pretty sure it's a law."

"A _law_?"

He smiled at her brightly. "Yeah. One of those little known ordinances."

She laughed despite herself. "That is so freaking corny."

"Ah, laughter. My job is done. Want to go back in now?"

She smiled at him. "Sure."

Slowly she managed to build a relationship with them. She was admittedly prickly, and didn't give trust easily. But her father was patient and her brother and sister seemed to bring out a protective side that only Sebastian had. Only she didn't feel the need to tease and torture them the way she sometimes did with Sebastian. Sebastian hadn't been innocent when she met him, but Cameron and Jenson were and she found herself wanting to keep them that way. She didn't want them to become jaded and cynical the way she was. She wanted them to believe in things like true love and hope and happily ever after.

* * *

Kathryn lay on her side curled up in a fetal position. She had been feeling like crap for the past two days. Then this morning, she'd thrown up nothing in particular. Her stomach was empty, since she hadn't eaten yet and dinner had long since digested, and nothing but bile came up. She hadn't missed that taste at all, she thought gloomily as she lay in bed. Sebastian wasn't home. He was in class and she needed to get a move on if she were going to be on time. She sat up carefully, ignoring the clinching of her stomach muscles.

Noelle was in the dining room, laughing about something in a book when Kathryn finally arrived. "Good morning dear," she said with a smile as she looked up at Kathryn, putting the book down to give the younger woman her full attention.

Kathryn smiled at the woman warmly. It was a fake smile. Not that there was a reason for her to dislike Sebastian's mother. She didn't really. It was just that the woman reminded her so much of Annette that sometimes Kathryn had the irrational desire to smash her teeth in. Noelle was the reason that Sebastian had fallen in love with the blonde twit. Kathryn had realized it the moment she'd met her in that clinic and it had only become more apparent with each passing day. "Good morning," she said cheerfully.

"Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I think I have that stomach thing going around. I'll be fine." She poured herself some orange juice.

"Oh, no dear. That acid is no good for your stomach. No good at all. Sara," she called in that lady like almost whisper. A servant appeared almost as if she had materialized from thin air. "Please bring Miss Kathryn some ginger ale and soda crackers."

Kathryn swallowed thickly. How could she dislike someone who was so kind to her? That was behaving like more of a mother to her then Tiffany ever had? _Because_, the irrational bitch in her head sneered, _if she weren't such a fucking saint, Sebastian never would have given that __insipid little idiot Dorothy a second glance once he'd popped her cherry_. She sighed and ignored the voice. "Thank you Noelle."

Noelle smiled. "No need to thank me. I should be thanking you. You make Sebastian happy. Being around me has to be hard on him at times."

"Why would you say that? Sebastian adores you."

"I can't remember… I know that has to hurt him, to have a mother who can't remember him." She blinked at the tears forming in her eyes.

Kathryn suddenly felt the urge to comfort her. She wasn't good at that sort of thing, though and could only seem do it when she was faking. But when she was sincere, when she genuinely wanted to make someone feel better, it always came across as insincere. Unless, of course, it was Sebastian. She almost laughed at the irony. Truthfully, there just weren't that many soft places left inside her and she wondered if she would have ended up like her mother if she hadn't met Sebastian when she did.

She took a deep breath and waded in. "He's happy just to have you here. Of course it probably hurts that you don't remember the past, but it's hardly your fault. He understands that."

Noelle smiled in appreciation. "I know. But understanding doesn't make it hurt any less. For either of us."

"Then you'll just have to make new memories."

Noelle patted her hand fondly. Her mother had never touched, not unless it was absolutely necessary, and it took all her self-control not to flinch away. "I'm so glad you're here, dear."

* * *

She was ten minutes late. She cursed under her breath as she found a seat in the back of the class – the stupid seats, she called them. She hated being late. Eventually her stomach cramps subsided, like the sea calming after a big storm. By the end of the class she was ravenous. She was supposed to met Sebastian at the bookstore near the campus, and they had decent food. Normally, she was picky about where and what she ate, but she made an exception this time.

"Okay, who the fuck are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?"

Kathryn looked up from her bowl of soup to see Sebastian staring at her, shock written all over his face. She was in the cafeteria practically inhaling a bowl of tortilla soup. She glared at him. "I was hungry."

"Apparently." He sat down across from her, looking at her apprehensively.

"You behave as though you've never seen me eat."

"You do realize that you usually eat like a rabbit. A rabbit with really good table manners, but still. You were eating that soup like you haven't had any food in a week."

"I feel like I haven't had food in a week. I've had some sort of weird stomach thing the past couple of days. I practically hurled my lungs out this morning."

He winced. "You were sick and you didn't tell me? You think you should go to the doctor? I can take you." He tried to reach across the table to feel her forehead, but she slapped his hand away.

"I'm over it now." She went back to eating her soup, though she was much more subdued this time. "Stop staring, Valmont."

"I'm just waiting to see if you'll burp," he said with a grin.

Kathryn rolled her eyes. Sometimes Sebastian was like an overgrown child. A really devious, extremely sexy overgrown child. "Bastard."

"Bitch," he said fondly.

* * *

Kathryn stood on the steps of the clinic, in a daze. She realized that someone might see her standing there, might start nasty rumors, but she didn't care. Nothing really mattered much. She felt hollow and cold. She hugged herself as she shivered. Why had she come here? Why had she done it? She didn't know. But the die was cast, wasn't it?

She had called Tuttle earlier, told him everything. He'd tried to change her mind. _He'll never forgive you_, he'd said. He told her to try to consider it from Sebastian's point of view. What if the shoe was on the other foot? She'd laughed humorlessly and said she'd pay good money to see that happen. She could tell that he was fighting a smile despite himself, even over the phone. Then she cried and begged – actually _begged_ – him to understand, to keep it to himself. To be the one person who never judged her for anything one more time. He sighed. _I'm not judging you, princess. I just don't want to see you make such an un-fucking-believably huge mistake_. She had told him it was too late for that, and he asked her if she needed him there. She said no, she needed to handle things on her own. He made her promise to call him if she needed anything.

Finally, after a long while, she shook herself out of her musings and went home. She had come up the back way, through the servant's entrance so that Sebastian wouldn't see her. There was so much to try to absorb and she didn't want to deal with him yet, not until she worked through it all. She needed to figure out how to proceed. After a few minutes of staring silently at her reflection in the mirror, she picked up the phone. She needed to make arrangements. Luckily, Noelle and Edward had left the city to escape the rapidly approaching coldest months of the winter. But it was typical of them, wasn't it? Typical of who Kathryn and Sebastian were that the other shoe would drop when they had gotten past every conceivable obstacle and found something that dangerously resembled happy and stable. Well… other then the fact that she still had the irrational urge to strangle his mother in her sleep on occasion.

_

* * *

_

vintage.elle., thanks for the review! I love K&S, and I only wish that the people who created

Cruel Intentions_ realized what a gold mine those two are._

_Tiffany is deliciously evil, isn't she kerimack? I've even been thinking of writing something about her early years… we'll see. I'm up to my eyeballs right now so it'll have to wait._

_I'm so glad you enjoyed it, RAWRxIMAxDINOSAUR. You definitely don't want K&S pissed at you, I tell you that… LOL._


	23. Revelations

**Revelations**

Sebastian was writing in his journal as he waited for Kathryn to come home. She'd gone out shopping while he stayed behind to finally put his reflections of the past few months down on paper. Everything had been such a whirlwind that he'd neglected to record all the important things that had happened. His mother was home, Tiffany was broken and rotting in a State Penitentiary. He and Kathryn were, unbelievably, stable. Although he wasn't quite sure if the relationship could be characterized as healthy since they were both still probably just as fucked up as they were before it started. He was glad now that he hadn't gone through with his plan, and grateful that she had never found out about it. He felt slightly guilty about spinning his involvement with Annette the way he had the month previously, but he couldn't bring himself to come completely clean. The best way out of telling the whole truth was to tell part of it, just enough truth to make the lie palatable. Losing Kathryn over a stupid half assed plan that he never should have hatched in the first place simply wasn't an option. He was happy, whether he deserved it or not. Happier than he had ever been or ever thought he could be and he wasn't about to do anything to jeopardize that. If that meant the occasional lie, so be it.

His journal had been sanitized. He had never mentioned anything in it about his plan, or about his continued relationship with Ann well past when he'd started sleeping with Kathryn. He had always considered the possibility that he may have let Kathryn read it in order to gain her trust. Or that she might finally find a way to get her hands on it. Yet another deception that she could never find out about. Not now, not when she finally trusted him and had let go of the past.

The sound of heels on the hardwood floor made him look up from his writing. Kathryn's long dark brown hair seemed to glow in the early summer light coming in through the balcony. "Hey baby. Where you buying out the entire Eastern Seaboard?" He smiled up at her.

She sat on the coffee table in front of him and removed her sunglasses. Her eyes were hard and cold. It was a look that he hadn't seen in almost a year. "I have a few questions for you Valmont," she said, her voice soft, cold, deadly. A shiver run down his spine. He didn't know which he felt more of – lust or fear. "It's very important that you answer them honestly."

"Okay," he said, looking at her suspiciously, as his mind worked furiously trying to figure out what he was obviously in trouble for. The only thing he could come up with was… no, she couldn't know about that. Nobody even knew about what he'd planned, except Ann and she didn't know everything. He couldn't think of a single reason that Ann and Kathryn would be talking to begin with.

She put her foot over his crotch so that her heel was pressing slightly into his scrotum. She smiled coldly when he groaned in pain and surprise. "When did you break up with Dorothy? I suggest you think carefully before you answer. That is if you value the family jewels. Darling." Her tone was dripping with mock sweetness when she said the last word.

He glared at her, suddenly having a hard time remembering why he had broken up with Annette. Maybe he _had_ been getting bored, but at least he was safe from being abused. He weighed the pros and cons of lying to her, but knew that she would ask at least one question that she already knew the answer to and he had no way of knowing for sure which one. The fact that she'd asked the question at all was a very bad sign. A sign that she knew _something_… something she wasn't supposed to know. He wanted to push her away. She was still small enough for him to easily over power even though she'd gained a little weight, but she had all the leverage here. She was effectively limiting his ability to move and could easily do a lot of damage before he could even grab her leg. "Six months ago."

"Oh yes, that must have been the day I found you sitting in your car, crying like a little girl. 'It's so lonely being a god,'" she mocked, her green eyes glittering with malice. "The whole thing was just a fucking game, wasn't it? The journal page. The staged break up ten months ago. All the changes in your behavior that kept me unsure of where you stood."

He gave her a pleading look, wanting her to understand. He had given up the game and Annette for her. He would give up anything else that she wanted him to. She was his price, the one thing on earth he would give everything he had for. "It started out that way."

"The journal… you let me read it. Did you keep writing in it just so you'd have it for a grand fucking gesture?"

"No. But I realized that I might have to let you see it. So I kept it… sanitized. But everything I wrote was true."

She rolled her eyes as if she didn't buy a word of what he was saying, and he supposed he couldn't really blame her. She leaned forward, careful not to increase the pressure on his balls. At least he had that to be grateful for since his eyes were watering as it was. "Now this is the most important question, Sebastian. Why didn't you follow through? You were on the verge of a complete triumph. Why didn't you take it?"

"I didn't want to anymore."

"Why?" She increased the pressure just a touch, obviously the penalty for not answering a question to her satisfaction, and to his embarrassment he actually yelped.

"Because I love you, you fucking psychotic bitch! I didn't want to hurt you," he gasped through clinched teeth as he glared at her through the tears of pain in his eyes. There wasn't even the slightest hint from her that it bothered her to cause him so much pain.

She removed her foot from his crotch, crossed her legs and stared at him silently.

"Go ahead. Mock me. Tell me what a fucking pussy I am." He watched her carefully as he fought the urge to protect his 'family jewels,' as she put it, from another attack and wondered what 

she was planning to do now that she knew everything. He remembered her threat at the hospital. "What ever you do to me, it'll be worth it."

"My poor silly rabbit," she said soothingly as she straddled him. Grabbing a handful of his hair, she pulled his head back roughly making him wince. Definitely past time for a haircut. "I wouldn't have tipped my hand if I really wanted to hurt you." She licked his lips gently then slid her tongue between them.

He kissed her back, his hands on her hips, as he felt her hand on his balls, stroking them gently. Her fingers loosened in his hair and he let his head fall back further, cradled by the hand she had behind it, enjoying her touch even as he realized how treacherous she could be and that she could very well turn on him again at any second. At least now he had a chance to defend himself. "How did you figure it out?"

"Tuttle told me what he said to you, about how I felt. And how you reacted. I know you, Sebastian." She looked away uncomfortably. He knew that she couldn't admit that she loved him yet, and that was fine. As long as she still belonged to him

He laughed. "That gossipy little slut." He looked into her eyes. "Why do you always insist on hurting me? It's a bit barbaric, Kitty Kat."

"Because you keep doing such naughty things," she pouted as she looked down at him. "Did you think there would be no punishment when I found out what a bad boy you've been? Frankly I'm ashamed of myself. I should have seen it sooner."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. I'm good." He gave a small, cocky smile as he ran his hands up her legs, pushing her dress up in the process.

She shrugged as she continued to stroke him. "True. Well played, Valmont. Except for the whole wimping out at the end part. You're right. You are a fucking pussy."

"What can I say? I flinched. Why are you letting me off the hook?" His fingers were slipping underneath her underwear, cupping her ass, kneading her smooth skin. He smiled up at her when she sighed. "You never flinch."

"Who the fuck said anything about letting you off the hook?" She let him go and stood up, her eyes hard again. "I'm leaving." With that she left him sitting there gaping at her as she went to her room.

"What?!" He was slow to get up and follow her, partly because he was stunned and partly because his balls still ached from her earlier battering, and moving was a dicey proposition. Part of him wondered why he was following her – she would end up being the death of him one day. But he couldn't help himself. He caught up to her just outside her door. "Where are you going? You can't just leave!"

The driver passed them carrying her luggage and he noticed that he was carrying the larger set, the ones she had last used when she moved in here four years ago. He did a 360 as he watched the man pass, somehow without breaking stride. She was really leaving him. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't fucking believe it.

"I can, and I am," she said lightly without looking back at him. He followed her into her bedroom and noticed how empty it looked already. He watched her double check the contents of her carryon bag, ever the perfectionist, and slip it over her shoulder. She paused in front of him on her way out of the room, a cold smile on her face. "Well, I guess this is goodbye, Valmont. It was… fun. You really were the best lay I ever had."

Her voice was light and casual, like she was discussing the weather. He recoiled from her attempt to kiss his cheek, feeling the sudden urge to strangle her, and she laughed. He watched her walk away without a backward glance, barely able to breathe. Was she really leaving him? Why the hell did he even want her to stay? She was a conniving evil whore with a cold chunk of obsidian where most people had hearts.

But he knew that wasn't true. He had _seen_ her heart. He knew how soft it could be, how vulnerable to certain things. The hardness was her way of protecting herself and he had more than proved that she needed protecting from him, hadn't he? Fucking Tuttle! He almost smiled at the irony that after all the cheerleading the bastard had done for team Kathryn, he ended up being the one who ruined it all. But he was much too angry to smile at ironies. He was going to break his damn neck the next time he saw his best friend!

Sebastian crossed the room to Kathryn's dressing table. Her jewelry box was gone, the one she kept all her favorite jewelry in. The emerald solitaire he'd given her for her birthday was sitting on the table. It had once had a prominent spot in the box but he supposed she had no use for it now. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand. It wasn't a bright green like most emeralds. It was dark, like her eyes. He put it in his pocket, not willing to leave it laying there. Also gone were her comb and brush, most of her makeup and her favorite perfume. He remembered watching her brush her hair out at night as she sat at that table while they rambled on about something or other. The topic never really mattered, just that they were talking about it. Fuck! What was he going to do without her?

He sat on her bed and looked around. Kathryn was his life, his entire world. He wasn't sure he knew how to function without her. For a while he had deluded himself that it was the same way for her. The way she looked up at him when he was inside of her, the way she called his name when he made her cum, the way she let him hold her at night. Not even she could fake that. Could she? But she had left him, hadn't she? She had just blithely walked away. She hadn't tried to get even, or yelled at him, or cursed him. She hadn't fallen apart or returned to using cocaine to numb herself. She'd simply packed up and walked out the door. Part of him admired her for it. The bitch had stone, that was for sure. But part of him resented her for being able to do what he knew he never could. Even when he was angry with her after the accident, the thought of leaving her had never so much as occurred to him. He'd even been pissed that she avoided him.

He had told her how to destroy him, but he didn't think that she'd actually do it. And not just do it, but be so cold, so callus about it. She didn't even bother showing contempt for him. It was like she didn't even care. She had teased him and left him hard, but that seemed to be the extent of her revenge. The opposite of love wasn't hatred, or even disdain. It was indifference. He felt cold. How could this happen? How could she be indifferent to him? At various times they had hated each other, loved each other, taken care of each other, and purposely hurt each other – sometimes all in the same conversation. But never, _never,_ had they been indifferent.

He wanted to go after her and beg her to stay. She would probably laugh at him, call him a pussy again, but he didn't care. He wanted her back. He _needed_ her back. Somehow, he had to find her. Once he did, he'd find some way to get her to forgive him. He picked up her extension and dialed her cell. It rang four times and went to voicemail. She was ignoring his call. He'd just have to go to the airport then, he decided as he got up and rushed to the door. It couldn't end like this. He stopped in the doorway. He had no idea where she was going. Was she leaving the country? Was she even taking a fucking plane? Was it a charter? Or was she driving to the country house? Fuck! How the hell could he follow her when he had no idea where she'd gone or how she was planning on getting there? Even if he assumed she flew, which airport would she have gone to?

Tuttle… he could help him track her down. He felt the first ray of hope since she said that she was leaving. He'd just kill the fag later.

_

* * *

_

Eleven years later…

"I can't believe you did this! I always knew you were a fucking evil bitch, but somehow this just took me by surprise. I guess I just got caught up in the illusion that I actually mattered to you." Kathryn was pressed up against the wall in the foyer, where Sebastian had pushed her. He was holding her forearms so hard that she knew that she would be bruised and sore in the morning. She could smell the slight aroma of scotch on his breath, but she knew that he wasn't drunk. Because if he was, things would have gotten a lot uglier than they already were.

"I loved you-"

"Don't! It's been over ten years! You've been hiding it from me for over ten fucking years, Kathryn! It's not like you couldn't find me all that time. And you really expect me to believe that you loved me? Or am I supposed to believe that you lied because you loved me?"

She shifted and felt his erection. Fighting with her still turned him on, even after all these years. She shifted again, so she could grind herself against him. "Come on baby, don't be angry," she said, her voice soft and seductive.

He let her go and backed away. The way he was looking at her nearly made her avert her eyes. "I'm not that same horny 18 year old boy you used to be able to control by offering up your cunt." His voice was cold and filled with contempt. No, definitely not drunk.

She clinched her fists, wanting nothing more than to punch him right in the face. "I wasn't the one who fucking started this shit! Why the hell am I the one getting all the blame?"

"Because I chose you." He sounded so sad, so… heartbroken that she wanted to find a way to make it better. But, unfortunately, she found herself falling back into old patterns instead, in an effort to protect herself.

"Oh, stop being such a fucking queer, Sebastian!"

"You fucking deprived me of my own kid! You manipulated my entire fucking life!"

"Well, shit Valmont! If I thought you were going to start lactating at the thought of becoming a father at 18 maybe I would have handled things differently-"

"My god, are you really that fucking clueless? This isn't about missing out on shopping for cribs! Don't you think that I should have at least been included in the decision?"

"It was never your decision to make!" Her voice was quivering and she hated herself for it. The past ten years had made her soft.

He stared at her silently, as if he didn't recognize her. His eyes dropped to her wedding ring. "Just like fucking Tiffany and Aramis. Was anything ever my decision," he finally asked softly. "Was I just a well trained pet after all? A fucking toy?"

He was clinching his jaw, trying to keep his lips from quivering. She was desperately trying to find some way to stop this train wreck, something to say that would erase the pain of the past two hours. Looking into his eyes was breaking her heart, because she knew that she had broken his. She had become so fucking _soft_. But right now, all she wanted was to stop his pain. She wasn't Tiffany. She would never sacrifice Sebastian the way her mother had Aramis. A noise from the other side of the house, followed by laughter, made Kathryn jump. She started to move closer to him but stopped when he backed away. She let her arms fall to her sides, feeling defeated. "They're back, Sebastian. They can hear us now. Can we just… not do this right this instant?"

He nodded slowly and lowered his voice so that only she could hear it. "You're right. You're always so _right_. Why do I even delude myself that I make any of my own fucking decisions whenever you're involved? I should know better, shouldn't I? You _always_ have to be in control one way or another." He grabbed his jacket and walked out.

"What about dinner," she called after him, but he ignored her. She grabbed the closest thing to her, a vase, and threw it at the door just as he closed it, a scream of frustration escaping her lips.

_

* * *

_

A/N: Before you all hyperventilate, there will be a sequel very soon (sometime next week) in which I'll tell you exactly what the hell happened. Eventually. ;-) I just felt that this phase of the story ended here. And I like cliffhangers. Seriously, I promise not to end the next one with a cliff.

_I wrote a book! Well, co-wrote, anyway. Check it out if you're interested: _www. lulu. com/content/2504842

_vintage.elle., that's why you see no pro Annette/Sebastian fics where they're together post CI and don't virtually revolve around Kathryn. I actually like Annette… just not with Sebastian. They simply don't fit. Kathryn pregnant? Mmmm… you could be close, but I'm not giving away any secrets. ;-D_

_Yes, Kaila, it is just like Kathryn to hide an important secret. Poor girl. Can't help herself._

_kerimack, I think it's very safe say that Sebastian wasn't pleased once he finally figured everything out… over ten years later. Poor sap._

_Welcome aboard the L&W train, Brittany! I hope that this latest chapter didn't disappoint._


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